THE 
NATURAL 
INCENTIVE 



The Cornhiii Company 





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THE NATURAL 
INCENTIVE 



ELISE WEST QUAIFE 




THE CORNHILL COMPANY 
BOSTON 



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TO MR. WINTHROP AMES, WHOSE KINDLY INTEREST HAS 
BEEN THE INCENTIVE OF MANY A PLAYWRIGHT 



CHARACTERS: 

Enid Tournier: a violinist. 

Daniel Webster Wadsworth : a sculptor. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: his mother. 

Miss Morris: Enid's watch dog. 

Beatrice Stephens: Enid's accompanist. 

Jack Clayton: an author. 

Hepzibah Quinn: a servitor. 

Rev. Vincent Lapum : a rector. 

Miss Birdie Holly : a neighbor. 

Harrison, a butler. 

TIME: 

The Present 



ACT I. Enid's studio in Paris. 

ACT II. The living room of the Wadsworth home on Beacon 

Street, Boston, Mass. 
ACT III. The library of the Wadsworth home at Hillcrest, 

N. H. 
ACT IV. The same, four months later. 

(Two years are supposed to have elapsed between Acts II and III.) 



Copyright, 1918 

by 

The Cornhill Company 

Copyright, by Elise West Qtuxife, as dramatic composition, 

"The Natural Incentive." All rights reserved, including 

that of translation into foreign languages 



NOV -7 1918 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 



ACT I 



THE 

NATURAL INCENTIVE 



ACT I 

Enid's studio in Paris, five o'clock on a sunny afternoon in 
April. 

It is a large, comfortable, convenient room. A small wood 
fire is burning in the open fireplace, under the mantel, at 
Left. The furnishings are inexpensive, but artistic. A grand 
piano, at Right, stands where the light from the wide French 
window falls full upon the key board. There is a pile of music 
upon the piano and sheets of it are scattered over the low 
cushioned window seat. There is a note in a white envelope 
beside an old clock on the mantel, and a deep jar of blue 
pottery stands on the piano. A high yellow stained glass 
window is set in the wall at left back. 

Curtains, Right back, conceal entrance to a narrow hallway 
which leads to outer door. There is a large easy armchair by 
fire. A low wicker table at Right Centre, holds a spirit lamp 
and dull blue tea cups and saucers. A large black cat is on 
couch. 

At rise of curtain. Miss Morris is discovered sitting bolt up- 
right in easy chair before fireplace. She is a brisk, brusque, 
middle-aged little woman, plain, yet distinctly prepossessing. 
Her habit of nodding vehemently as she talks emphasizes her 
alert manner. She endeavors to conceal her emotion in the 
terseness of her language. 

She is enveloped in a long, steamer coat and a close felt hat is 
pulled defiantly down over her soft greyish hair. Her suit 
case with, " French Line," and " American Express " labels 
conspicuous, and her steamer rug done up in a shawl strap are 
standing near her, and she has evidently just begun a conversa- 



4 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

tion with Jack Clayton, a genial and strikingly handsome 
young man who leans against the mantel rolling a cigarette. 
Jack is not inclined to view the world seriously. Everyone 
adores him, but everyone — excepting Beatrice Stephens — 
takes him lightly. 

There is a subtle bond of understanding between the appar- 
ently flippant young author and the dark-browed, quiet South- 
ern girl. Beatrice moves lazily, yet whenever she looks at 
Jack her eyes brighten and in the midst of his clever repartee 
he turns to her for approval. This entirely escapes the notice 
of the others, who look upon Jack as Enid's slave. 
While Miss Morris questions Jack, Beatrice stands at the 
piano turning over some sheets of manuscript music. 

Miss Morris {draws of gloves) : I tell you it's absurd — per- 
fectly absurd — What business has a woman like Enid 
to marry anyway? 

Jack Clayton {amused, lights cigarette): I believe, Miss 
Morris, it is generally conceded that marriage is the one 
business to which the calling and election of woman is 
sure. 

Miss Morris {removes coat and hat) : " Generally conceded '* 
— "Calling of woman! '* Jack Clayton, I am surprised 
you didn't outgrow those platitudes with your first 
mustache. 

Jack Clayton {lazily): Never had a mustache, dear lady, 
besides, platitudes are an author's staff of life. 

Miss Morris {sharply): Stop scintillating and be sensible. 
Is it really true that Enid Tournier is going to marry 
this worthless nobody.'^ 

Jack Clayton {blows rings of smoke) : That isn't the way I 
work out the proposition, but your theorem is correct. 
She is going to marry Daniel Wadsworth. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 5 

Miss Morris: Oh dear, oh dear! Why did I go to America? 
This would not have happened if I had been here. 

Beatrice (with a piece of music in her hand goes leisurely to 
the piano stool) : Then, Morry, although we missed you 
desperately, let us thank the saints you were detained in 
Oshkosh; (twists stool) or was it Kalamazoo? (Tinkles 
a note or two insolently) or — Kankakee? 

Miss Morris: Orange, New Jersey, my dear; a grafted sprig 
of New York City, the fruit of which is yet green. I 
wouldn't have remained there an hour, but my in- 
come was tied up in some property, and I couldn't get 
away. 

Jack Clayton (kindly) : Let us hope you undid the knots. 
Miss Morris. 

Miss Morris (brightly) : Yes, I am now a person of wealth 
and importance. Five Hundred Dollars a year for life. I 
can pet my fads and cuddle my fancies. 

Beatrice (who has been noiselessly fingering the score) : Got 
a large family of them, Morry? Five hundred won't sup- 
port many children. 

Miss Morris: No, Enid is my only babe at present. (Ag- 
grieved) And the minute my back is turned, she runs bump 
into a sand bank, mistakes it for a feather bed, and flops 
down on it to rest. Rest, for Enid, means what a winter 
in a drafty stable does for a race horse. 

Jack Clayton (amused): You think she is taking Wads- 
worth as a sleeping potion? 

Miss Morris (nods): She has had a hard season. (To Bee) 
Bee shows the strain. You are thin as a rail, and you 



6 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

only play Enid*s accompaniments. I suppose her nerves 

are worn to a frazzle. 

{Jack and Bee look at each other and hurst out laughing.) 

Jack Clayton: Wait till you see her before you talk of shat- 
tered nerves. This is April, is it not.^* {Miss Morris nods.) 
Well, the flowers of spring aren't in it with Enid. She is 
a blooming example of the medicinal value of love and 
success. 

Miss Morris {sniffs) : Humph! You think so, Silly, because 
her eyes are bright and her cheeks are red. I know Enid; 
she is like a skyrocket — most brilliant when about to 
drop. Haven't I devoted three years to guarding her 
from the effects of sputtering emotion .^^ {Rises. Throws 
coat and hat on couch; walks about wringing her hands) She 
seemed entirely free from sentimentality, or I wouldn't 
have left her for a gold mine. {To Bee) Why didn't you 
write me? 

Beatrice {shrugs): I was not sure she was serious. You 
know Enid's way with men. She plays upon heart- 
strings as if they were cat-gut. 

Miss Morris {snaps back): Well, at any rate she brings 
music out of them. No man has ever been the worse for 
loving Enid Tournier. But marriage was as far removed 
from her thoughts as from — {she crosses to Jack, lays her 
hand on his arm) yours, Jack Clayton, dear scapegrace 
that you are. 

{Jack glances quickly at Bee who lowers her eyes and bends 
over her music.) {Then he pats the hand on his arm very 
quietly.) 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 7 

Jack Clayton: Her chances were infinitely better, how- 
ever. 

Miss Morris: Chances! She might have married any one 
of a dozen men of action. {Sits in easy chair.) 

Jack Clayton {recovering his poise) : Or the Angel Gabriel, 
had he blown down to earth to toot a brass horn obligate 
at one of her recitals — or a Prince of the Blood Royal — 
or, {bows) your humble. 

Unfortunately for us who deserve her, there are two 
things a woman has the privilege of choosing, and one of 
them is — her husband. 

Beatrice {mockingly) : I'm curious, Jack. 

Jack Clayton {with significance): I shall be proud to en- 
lighten you whenever you care to pursue the subject. 
{Bee flushes and hastily plays the scale.) 

Miss Morris: It*s terrible! Terrible! 

Beatrice {with resentment) : I don't see why you should take 
it so hard, Morry. Mr. Wadsworth is all the most enter- 
prising mamma could desire for an only daughter. 
Morally unspotted, physically sound, financially solid, 
and — 

Jack Clayton: Socially — ir — re — proach — able! He is 
the last descendant of a select family which stepped from 
the deck of the Mayflower straight into the Boston State 
House. 

Miss Morris {very erect): My dear children, what has the 
man done? 

Beatrice {still resentful): When one has several million he 
doesn't have to do things to be somebody. 



8 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Miss Morris (nods hard) : That's just where you are wrong. 
Any fool can inherit gilt-edged securities. 

Beatrice (impatient) : You talk like a phonograph, Morry. 
Mr. Wadsworth is a man of dignity and culture. Besides, 
he has done some rather remarkable clay modeling. 

Miss Morris (dryly) : Yes, I read the announcement in the 
Herald: " Enid Tournier, a young American who has 
attained fame in Paris as a violinist, is about to be mar- 
ried to Daniel Wadsworth, a sculptor from Boston." 
It took me just six hours to catch the first outward bound 
steamer and here I am. (Points to luggage) I thought you 
would both feel as I do, instead of which — (she furtively 
daps her eyes with her handkerchief. Beatrice sits sul- 
lenly silent, but Jack pats Miss Morris reassuringly on the 
arm.) 

Jack Clayton: Come, cheer up. Wadsworth really is a 
very good sort. 

Miss Morris (with faint hope) : 75 he a sculptor? 

Jack Clayton: He's not a St. Gaudens, but he models well 
and he understands effects. 

Miss Morris (hopelessly) : I know that kind. They never 
burn their fingers in the fire of inspiration. 

Beatrice (impatiently): But she loves him, Morry. She's 
positively daffy over him. She was restless as a hornet 
from the day she met him until he proposed. 

Miss Morris (with scorn): Loves him! You mean she is 
fascinated by his personality. What does she know of him, 
or he of her.^^ I tell you they are different breeds. At 
bottom, Enid respects nothing but efficiency and energy; 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 9 

when the glamour wears ofiF she'll be dissatisfied and 
make him uncomfortable. 

Beatrice: No one loves comfort more than Enid. 

Miss Morris {sharply) : So ! You encouraged her. That ex- 
plains a lot. 

Beatrice {hotly) : I took no hand in her affairs. 

Jack Clayton: That's straight. Bee plays the game. 
{Smiles at Beatrice) Even if she was fond of a chap herself 
she'd not take him if Enid wanted him. 

Miss Morris: Rubbish! Bee is no second fiddler. 
{Bell rings outside. Beatrice goes into hall.) 

Voice Outside: Miss Tournier.^^ Chez elle.'^ 

Beatrice: Oui. 

Voice: Signer, s'U vous plait. 

Miss Morris {to Jack) : Is the man very rich.'^ 

{Bee enters with a long florist box. Takes out a mass of yel- 
low jonquils.) 

Jack Clayton {points to flowers) : Behold ! He has gold — 
and gold — and more gold. 

Beatrice {arranges them in jar on piano) : They come every 
day. 

Miss Morris : If he had been a genius — or a poor man — 

Jack Clayton {bows) : Synonymous terms, dear lady. 
{Bee returns to seat on piano stool.) 

Miss Morris: Enid would have had an incentive to urge 
her to higher flights of musical endeavor. But he'll clip 
her wings; you'll see. 

{They stare at each other drearily for a moment. Then, with 
a heavy crash of chords Beatrice pushes back the piano stool. 



10 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

rises, goes to the casement window and throws the sash wide 
open.) 

Beatrice : Don*t croak so. Wings are all the style in Boston. 
They like clever folks there. 

Miss Morris {nods): Yes, but they don't want them in 
their own families. 
{Key is heard in door outside.) 

Jack Clayton : Here she comes. Hurry, Morry, look cheer- 
ful, if you don't feel so. 

{Enid is heard humming a merry tune in hall outside, and 
darts into the room, violin case and music roll in hand. She 
is a rather tall, slender girl of twenty-two, with a firm mouth 
and dancing eyes. She has a quaint, childish manner, and 
is exquisitely graceful in action. She has a quantity of soft 
dark hair which she wears twisted closely about her head. 
Her gown is a straight-cut soft crepe, very simple yet ar- 
tistic. She wears a small close hat. She is the impersona- 
tion of artistic daintiness, combined with a touch of rural 
strength.) 

Enid: I'm dreadfully sorry to be so late — {sees Miss Morris, 
stops short with a cry of joy) Morry ! Here, Jack, take the 
violin. {She fairly flings it at him and rushes to embrace 
Miss Morris.) Oh, Morry, you darling! I am so glad to 
see you! 

Miss Morris (brokenly) : My little white lamb, your watch 
dog has come back. 

Enid {holds her at arm's length, then draws her close) : How I 
have missed you! I wouldn't bleat until your vacation 
was over, but I have perished for a sight of your nod. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 11 

(Miss Morris laughs and nods vehemently through tears.) 

Enid impetuously kisses her on both cheeks.) 

I have ached for the sound of your bark. Sit right down 

in your old place and scold me hard^ so I may be sure you 

are real. 

{Pushes Miss Morris into wicker chair beside tea table. 

Removes hat and gloves; puts them on couch; bends to stroke 

the cat.) 

Here is Medusa; she missed you almost as much as I did. 

(Takes cat in arms.) 

Did it see its Auntie Morry? Come visit her while Enid 

has a cup of tea. 

(Pushes ottoman beside Miss Morris; sits on ity cat in lap.) 

Make the tea, Morry, and answer all my questions at 

once. My rehearsal was three hours long and I am in need 

of refreshment — mental and physical. When did you 

get iii^ Why didn't you cable you were coming? Do you 

love me? 

(With a quick upward glance, as a child begging forgiveness.) 
Miss Morris (lights the spirit lamp with fingers that are none 

too steady) : At least I wasted no time in coming to you. 

My trunks are still in the Customs. I didn't wait to 

pariey over my belongings. 
Enid (looks at suit case): "American Express Co." That 

ought to make me homesick. It doesn't. Now you are 

in Paris I shall try to persuade Daniel not to go home this 

summer. 
Miss Morris: We have been discussing your marriage, Enid. 
Enid: Of course! Isn't it wonderful? 



12 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Miss Morris {nods harder than ever) : Wonderfully sudden. 
I've been gone only two months. 

Jack Clayton: Miss Morris feels that the path of matri- 
mony is strewn with the fallen petals of the flowers of 
aspiration. 

Enid {takes cup of tea, and offers it to him with mock solicitude) : 
Have some tea, Jacky; it's very soothing to the imagina- 
tion. 

Jack Clayton: Thanks; I'll pass it over to Beatrice. She 
has been exerting hers in the vain attempt to convince 
Miss Morris of her error. 
{Hands tea to Beatrice.) 

Enid {laughs) : It was Bee who opened my eyes to the ad- 
vantages of a permanent address. 

Miss Morris {nods) : I thought so. She could have been 
better employed. 

Enid: For once I don't agree with you, dear. By the way. 
Bee, have we any more of those delicious explosive buns? 
They are almost as sweet as you are Morry, and when 
you bite into them they make a noise that scares me al- 
most as much as you do. 

{Bee goes to the cupboard on wall up stage and returns with 
a plateful of small puff buns which she puts on tea table. 
Returns to piano.) 

Miss Morris: Is it true that you have broken your contract 
with Strauss and will not play again in public? 

Enid {serenely) : Quite true. 

{She takes a bun. Offers them to Jack, who takes one and re- 
gards it quizzically. Enid drinks tea.) 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 13 

My farewell appearance is one week from today. And 

oh, Morry dearest! {Puts down tea cwp, clasps hands in 

delight.) 

I have written a song — just a bit of a song — but it is 

the first thing I have ever composed, and even Strauss 

says it has merit. It is dedicated to Daniel. There is the 

piano score in the roll. Bee. The clerk finished it this 

morning. 

{Bee opens roll; takes out mss. sheets.) 

Miss Morris {insistently) : Why did you break the contract? 

Enid : Daniel wished it. I don't know why. Oh, Morry dear, 
you are a regular catechism. I've been too busy and 
happy to inquire his reason. Something about his mother 
objecting to theatrical folk. {Makes a wry face) I object 
to them myself. 

{Suddenly her face and voice grow wistful.) 
It was hard — at first; even now — sometimes — 

Beatrice {quickly) : Oh, Enid, I quite forgot. A boy brought 
that note on the mantel after you had gone out. The 
flowers just came. 

{Enid jumps up^ overturning the caty who rubs against Miss 
Morris and is taken on her lap. Enid reads note, and going 
to the jonquils, puts her arms around them.) 

Enid : I'm happy, Morry. I'm so happy it seems positively 
immoral. My father preaches that happiness is an in- 
vention of the devil. 

Miss Morris: Just so. An artist has no right to mere happi- 
ness. 

Enid {Laughs, catches Jack by both hands and does a dance 



14 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

step) : I'm not an artist; I'm a girl — almost as young — 
as Jacky! 

Jack Clayton : You are my distinguished junior by the space 
of six months. 

Enid: I want to dance all day long. Bee has to terrify me 
into practicing. Music, on paper, is for mortals. When 
I play, now, I find my score up there — in the sun. 
(She swings about facing the high yellow window. The 
sun which has gradually crept higher, now floods the room. 
Enid reaches both arms up towards it and slowly closes 
her hands.) 

I want to grasp it, and hold it close — this joy — for 
fear — like the sunlight — it might slip through my fin- 
gers. 

(Turns slowly.) 

And that is the only reason, Morry dear, why I am not 
to be the servant of the public any longer. 

Miss Morris: She who gives, gets, Enid. Don't be fooled 
into believing the contrary. 

Jack Clayton (blithely interposing): Enid has everything 
she wants — even two cups of tea. You haven't offered 
me one to quench this — explosive. (Holds out bun.) 

Miss Morris: I beg your pardon. 

(She absently hands him an empty cup. He looks at it 
ruefully and turns it upside down. She hastily fills it.) 

Jack Clayton : Even now you forgot the sugar. 
(He goes to Enid who stands brooding.) 
Smile on it for me. Princess. 

Enid (smiles in spite of herself) : Silly ! 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 15 

Jack Clayton {with fervor) : Sweet ! 

(He takes a lump of sugar y holds it aloft in her direction y 
kisses it and drops it into his cup. Beatrice frowns y picks 
up music roll and mss. sheets and starts towards hall.) 

Beatrice: I am going to my room to run this score over on 
my piano. 

(Exits.) 

(Jack looks after her, checks a whistle, then with a shrug 
turns again to Enid.) 

Jack Clayton: Having disposed of the rest of your one- 
time necessities, will you kindly mention what is to become 
of me? 

Enid (gaily) : I turn you over to Morry. She is an adept in 
taking care of children. 

Jack Clayton: Stung! I kiss the hand that slays me. 

(He bends to kiss her handy hut she pushes him daintily away 
with one finger.) 

Enid : Jack, you are a goose, but you are also a very dear 
boy. Somehow I can't think of you as a writer of serious 
books. Would you mind running along now. Daniel is 
due at six and I want him to take Morry and me to din- 
ner. If you stay he will ask you to go along. 

Jack Clayton: Of all the impudent dismissals! 

Miss Morris (rises, puts cat on couch. Takes hat and coat) : 
I'll go with you, Jack. 
(Enid protests.) 

Some other time, child. Tonight I should be distraite, 
and spoil your dinner. Besides, I must attend to my 
luggage. 



16 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid: I won't let you go until you meet Daniel. 
{Bell rings, she runs into hall, opens outside door.) 
Daniel! Come in. My guardian angel is with me. I 
want you to know — (she enters clinging to DanieVs arm) 
— Miss Morris. 

(Daniel Wadsworth is a large, well-built blonde; self pos- 
sessed, but not self sufficient. There is in him that curious 
blend of force and lack of confidence, so common among 
New England men. He is extremely well dressed in a quiet 
way, and his manner denotes leisure.) 

Daniel Wadsworth {bows to Miss Morris): I am pleased 
to meet you. 

{Miss Morris regards him fixedly for a moment, then offers 
him her hand.) 

Enid: I have been chanting your praises to her for the past 
half hour. 

Jack Clayton : Chanting ! You have been dancing over our 
remains. 

{Puts his arm around Miss Morris.) 

We have learned that we are not to let our shadows darken 
a sphere illumined by the light of your effulgent presence. 
She has forever ruined any chance you had of being liked 
by either of us, Wadsworth. 

{Daniel smiles indulgently at Enid, who slips a hand under 
his arm and pouts at Jack.) 

Enid: Don't mind Jack, dearest. He is insane, but harmless. 

Miss Morris {who has never taken her eyes from Daniel) : Mr. 
Wadsworth, you are about to take my one treasure from 
me. You look as if you would guard it well. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 17 

D. Wadsworth: Thanks! That is my justification. 
{Puts his hand over Enid's,) 

Miss Morris (with a half sob) : Bless you, my children. 
(Turns to wipe eyes.) 

And now, Jack, if you will kindly call a taxi, I will try to 
pacify those irate officials at the Customs. 

Enid: Stop over night with me, dear. You can attend to 
your luggage in the morning. 

Miss Morris: No. In the morning I have to see about a 
house in the country, and my lawyers await my signature 
to some papers. 

(Turns to Daniel with a pathetic attempt at humor.) 
We monied folks have our troubles, Mr. Wadsworth! 
(He bows, not comprehending her meaning. Jack takes her 
things as she puts on her hat and coat and they go into hall.) 

Enid (kissing Miss Morris): Good-bye, dear; 'phone me as 
soon as you are settled. 
(To Jack) Bye-bye, Jack, take good care of her. 

Jack Clayton: Bye-bye, Princess. 

(Enid stands at curtain, waves her hand after them, then 
slowly returns to Daniel, puts both hands on his shoulders 
and rests her cheek on them.) 

Enid: Poor old Morry! It's a blow she didn't expect. 

D. Wadsworth: Our — marriage? 

Enid: Yes. I was a coward. I couldn't write her about it. 
She has devoted every spare moment to me ever since she 
gave me my first favorable notice in a New York paper. 
She writes musical critiques, — at least — she did. Re- 
cently she came into a small inheritance and she planned 



18 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

to buy a home in the country — not too far from Paris — 
where I could swing in a hammock between seasons. I 
really should go with her this summer, {Impulsively puts 
her arm around his neck) only, I want you — now — 
while you love me — and I want you all to myself. 

D. Wadsworth {takes her in his arms): Sweetheart! 

Enid : After our honeymoon — 

{She hesitates — blushes — and he kisses her.) 

D. Wadsworth: Yes.^^ 

Enid {claps hands): We will take the little house, and she 
shall come swing in our hammock. 

D. Wadsworth: I fear that is impossible, dear. We shall 
have to be at home by the middle of June. 

Enid {wistfully): Home? Isn't it home where I am? 

D. Wadsworth {patiently) : The mater could never manage a 
summer alone. We go up to Hillcrest, in New Hamp- 
shire, and she is very dependent upon me. She isn't a 
great, self-reliant creature like you. 
{He laughs in evident relish of his joke. 
Enid frowns, pushes him down into the easy chair and 
perches on the arm.) 

Enid: I remember. You told me of Hillcrest. That is where 
you have your outdoor studio. Will you model me? 
{Jumps up, takes pose.) 

How would I look as Diana? She wore short skirts, 
modern fashion. 

D. Wadsworth {seriously) : I have written the caretaker to 
turn the studio into a little club house. We can have a 
sporty golf course over those New Hampshire hills. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 19 

Enid (aghast): Where will you do your work then? 

D. Wadsworth: On the links. 

Enid: Don't be absurd. You don't intend to loaf all sum- 
mer do you? 

D. Wadsworth: Dearest mine, you and I, collectively, are 
going in for one grand loaf. I'll bet you don't comprehend 
what that means. 

Enid (slowly) : You are discouraged by your failure in the 
Salon. 

(Eagerly) That was largely my fault. You couldn't do 
your best work with me on your mind. Such an exasper- 
ating, capricious me. 

D. Wadsworth: Such an adorable, delicious you. 

Enid (laughs) : Such as I am — I am your own, and surely, 
surely, Daniel, you will be able to mold some masterpiece 
that will show the world the beauty of a love like ours. 

D. Wadsworth: No. I am a brilliant amateur, perhaps, but 
I am not a great sculptor. 
(Rises, walks about.) 

The art world over here has opened my eyes to my short- 
comings. I can't reach the top, and I am not willing to 
wobble about on the middle of the ladder. 
(Returns, sits down, draws Enid to him.) 
And so, dear, I am resolved to live the normal life of an 
American citizen. 

Enid: But what will you do? 

D. Wadsworth: Oh, I may open a law oflSce. I was ad- 
mitted to the bar ten years ago. Had to study law for 
the sake of my name. 



20 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid: Your name? 

D. Wadsworth: Don't you know my middle name is Web- 
ster? 
Enid: No. 
D. Wadsworth: It is. Mother read law briefs to me before 

she tackled Hans Anderson. The law was the road men of 

our family had always travelled. I side-tracked, and I've 

had an upset. Mother will be glad. She looks down 

on the artistic. 
Enid: Then she will look down on me. 
D. Wadsworth: That's different. She belittles art as a 

profession. 
Enid: Is that why you want me to give up my music? 
D. Wadsworth: Not your music, dear, your concert work. 

{With enthusiasm) I've been thinking w^hat a hit you will 

make with mother's friends. They are all musical. 
Enid (rises): Yes? Afternoon teas, or receptions to the new 

minister? 

{Walks over to 'piano, pulls a jonquil out of the jar. Re- 

turns.) 

No, Daniel dear, I have no parlor tricks. Why not let me 

continue to play in public? 
D. Wadsworth: It would prejudice mother against you. 
Enid {slowly, smiling at him over the jonquil) : Would that be 

— fatal? 
D. Wadsworth: The real reason is my own prejudice against 

having you the target for unnecessary comment and 

criticism. 
Enid {very slowly pulls the jonquil to pieces) : It's rather diffi- 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 21 

cult for me to see your viewpoint, but I dare say I will 

come to it. I have been so proud of my success. 

{She turns on him suddenly.) 

Daniel, why is it we have never talked about the way it 

happened. 

D. Wadsworth (smiling): We have been feeling too much 
to talk about anything. This is the first connected con- 
versation we have ever had. (Takes her hand) I prefer 
the disconnected. 

(He tries to draw her down into his lap, but she eludes him, 
walks away, and stands by the piano very erect, and looking 
afar off as in a dream.) 

Enid: I was born in a small village in northern Vermont. 
My grandfather was a French music-teacher; my father 
a Methodist minister, as self-sufficient as he was ineffec- 
tive. I remember, as a child, thinking my mother looked 
like pictures of the Madonna, but the babies came, faster 
than they could be cared for, and she was an old woman 
before I was grown. Always musical, I struggled with 
our church organ until Mrs. Lane, a summer resident, 
bought me a violin, I did up her winter preserves to pay 
for it. How I loved that violin ! At night I took it to bed 
with me. 

Mrs. Lane said I had talent and invited me to New York 
for a year of study. My mother died that Easter. I 
went home to the funeral. I have never been there since. 
I played in studios, clubs, restaurants, any place where I 
could earn money. One day I met Morry; the rest was 
plain luck. She boosted me along until Strauss brought 



52 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

me to Paris. The French blood in me caught the French 
fancy. {Comes to him) Today I had an offer to go to 
Vienna — at my own terms. 

D. Wadsworth: We have had our fling and we have found 
each other. That is the part that counts, is it not? Now 
we can settle down and enjoy a peaceful home. We won't 
be rich, compared with the multi-millionaires, but there 
is plenty of money for you and me and the children. 

Enid {turns away after a pause) : There must be no children, 
Daniel. 

D. Wadsworth {rises in astonishment) : What.?^ 

Enid: The very idea is repugnant to me. My mother died 
in childbirth. The scenes I witnessed as a young girl, 
when the other babies arrived, left me with an awful 
dread of ever suffering as she did. {Shudders) No, no, I 
have my music, and you. I don't want children. 

D. Wadsworth {gravely): I am disappointed. It's natural 
a man should look forward to having a family. 

Enid: Why? 

D. Wadsworth: I suppose he likes to feel that a son may 
carve out a Victory where he only blurred the marble. 

^NiD {swings around) : See ! You use the language of the art 
you mean to discard because your mother does not ap- 
prove of it. She has stunted your development as my 
parents stunted mine. Half the men one meets are in 
professions they dislike because their parents willed it 
so. 

{Comes to center stage.) 
If I had a child I should wish him to be free. {Opens arms 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 23 

wide) To grow up unhampered by conventionality, un- 
fettered by family tradition. 
{Turns to Daniel.) 

This would not please you. You are a typical, conventional 
Bostonian. (Very wistfully) Why, dear, you intend to 
shut me up in a cage. I may no longer make music for 
the world outside. I adore you, and I consent to the 
cage — for myself, — but for children, no. I have flown, 
and I know that nothing, nothing else is worth being 
born for. 

D. Wadsworth: Excepting love. 

Enid: Love limits quite as often as it exalts. 
(Goes to hiniy puts both hands on his shoulders.) 
My Daniel, children would be a barrier, not a bond, be* 
tween you and me. 

D. Wadsworth (crushes her to himself passionately) : Have 
your own way. No son could delight me as you do, no 
daughter so thrill me. Why I have only just been born 
myself; born into a world where the only sound is your 
voice; the only sight, your eyes; the only scent, your hair. 
(They kiss.) 

Enid (timidly) : Suppose you change? 

D. Wadsworth (sturdily) : We Wadsworths don't change. 
(From without comes a strain of exquisite music.) 

Enid: Listen! Bee is playing my song. (She stands radiant) 
Do you like it.^^ It is as much yours as mine, for I never 
wrote a song until I loved you, Daniel. 
(As they listen, he draws her head down on his breast.) 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 



ACT II 

The living-room of the Wadsworth home on Beacon Street, 
Boston, an afternoon of the following February. 
The room is stiff and conventional, although furnished with 
rare old mahogany and beautiful hangings. A coal fire is 
burning in the grate, and above the mantel there is a large 
portrait, in oils, of a handsome man in costume of a Colonial 
judge. There are magazines on the centre table, a reading 
lamp with a green shade, a tall glass dish filled with apples, 
and a bon bon dish containing candy. A rocking chair is 
near the fireplace. A vase containing a few roses is on the 
mantel. 

A large silver framed mirror stands on the mantel. 
Before curtain rises a brilliant part of a concerto for violin 
and piano is heard on the stage. The music suddenly ceases 
with a crashing discord on the violin. 

Curtain rises; Beatrice is discovered at piano with hands 
suspended above keys; Enid with violin in left hand and 
bow in right. She lays them both on piano, goes to window up 
Left, opens it and leans out. She wears a soft silk gown, very 
dainty and very quaint, which shows just a touch of conven- 
tionality not seen in her studio attire. Her hair, also, is 
dressed in more modem fashion. 

Enid (opens window) : Ugh ! Let's have some air. This 

house is stifling. 
Beatrice (leisurely) : What will Mrs. Wadsworth say if she 

comes in? 
Enid {slams window down) : How can she breathe in such an 

atmosphere? After three months of it my lungs are 

fairly perforated. 
Beatrice: Going to practice any more? 



28 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid: No. {Walks restlessly about.) 

I can't play that music. Old, dead notes; they rattle 

over my violin strings like dry bones. 

(Stops centre stage, hands over heart.) 

My nocturne throbs — here — (heart) and at night its 

melody soars through my brain. (Turns) I have stopped 

trying to sleep. 

Beatrice (dryly) : No wonder you are cross. 

Enid: I'll sleep, once I have played it before an audience 
and heard the applause. 

Beatrice: Has Jack gone down-town for our steamer 
tickets? 

Enid: Yes, Daniel has consented to our sailing on March 
first. Two more weeks of prison — and then — the open 
sky! 

Beatrice: Why do we go so soon.'^ You don't play in Lon- 
don until April. 

Enid: I must have at least a month in Paris to pull myself 
together. 

Beatrice: You need it. You are a bunch of nerves. 

Enid (sits) : I know, but back in the old studio with Morry to 
love me, and Jack to encourage me, and you to work with 
me, I shall be myself again. Won't we have a good time, 
Bee? In my mind's eye I already see — explosive buns! 
(Snaps fingers) New England boiled dinners and friends 
of the family have nearly ruined my digestion. 
(Opens window again) It's snowing now; five minutes ago 
it was raining. A study in climate — Boston. 

Beatrice (gathers music together) : Enid, you were positively 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 29 

rude to Mrs. Wadsworth last night when she asked you 
to play for the Barretts. 

Enid (wilfully): If she wants a cabaret performance at her 
dinners she should engage cabaret performers. 

Beatrice : You owe respect to your husband's mother. 

Enid (passionately) : I hate her. She has ruined Daniel. 

Beatrice (comes forward quietly): Oh, no; she has merely 
turned him into a masculine copy of herself. 

Enid : She has coddled him, and coerced him, and repressed 
him until he is so wound round by her opinions that he is 
as unable to navigate alone as an Indian pappoose 
strapped to its mother's back. 

Beatrice: That is his heritage. He accepts it. You should 
do the same. 

Enid : I tell you, Bee, that type of woman does more harm 
than all your bomb throwing suffragettes. Never tell me 
Cleopatra was an insolent, strapping hussy. I'll wager 
she was a dainty, appealing bit of white fire. 

Beatrice: The more reason why, for your own interests, 
you should win over Mrs. Wadsworth. 

Enid: Haven't I tried to be interested in games and gossip? 
Haven't I learned Five Hundred, and studied *' Who's 
Who in Boston? " What more would you have me do? 

Beatrice: Give up this trip to London. 

Enid (haughtily): That I will not do. I am surprised at 
your suggesting it. 

Beatrice: Oh, v^ery well. It's downright selfish of you, how- 
ever. She is not the only one to be considered. There is 
Mr. Wadsworth — and — Jack. 



30 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid {in obvious surprise) : Jack? 

Beatrice {with impatience) : Has it not occurred to you that 
Jack cannot possibly finish his novel in time for Harper's 
and be off with us to London? 

Enid {carelessly) : Don't worry over Jack, it will do him good 
to have a steady job. If he attends to my business affairs 
he will make more money from my concerts in two months 
than he could on a dozen books. 

Beatrice {scornfully): Money! 

Enid {eyes her sharply): Oh, ho! You are very scornful of 
it all at once. You were not — always. 

Beatrice: I wanted you to have it. 

Enid {bitterly) : Well, I have it. Daniel has more than paid 
my price — in money. 

Beatrice: Frankly, Enid, I don't understand you. I urged 
you to marry Mr. Wadsworth, although it did me out of 
the little reputation I was gaining as your accompanist, 
because I thought you had given him your heart. 

Enid {dreamily) : Yes, I gave him my heart, but I forgot to 
give him my memory. That runs on, piecing my old life 
and my new together, until I am half crazy. So, I am 
going back to Paris — to have it out with myself, — 
{takes violin caressingly in her arms) and my old love. 

Beatrice {pacificly): Of course, you have missed the ex- 
citement. 

Enid {laughs derisively): There have been more strange ex- 
periences crowded into this year than in the whole of my 
life. It's not excitement I want — it's peace. 

Beatrice {decisively) : What you really want, is a child. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 31 

(Enid starts violently , and looks sharply at Bee, but she goes 
on calmly) Morry was right. You'll never be content to 
sit down with folded hands. You are too creative for 
that. 

Enid (hotly): And pray what chance would a child have in 
this house? He would be cramped by old-fashioned no- 
tions; he would be enervated by luxury; and any indi- 
viduality he might exhibit would be promptly squelched. 
A washerwoman's child would have a better chance. 

Beatrice (placidly) : Mrs. Wadwsorth would be difficult to 
deal with, but you could manage her. 

Enid (nervously): Let's get out of doors. The Hudsons are 
coming to dinner; they are not quite as tedious as the 
Barretts, but they are bad enough. A walk will freshen 
us up. 

Beatrice: All right. Come along. 

(As they start towards door, it opens, and Hepzibah enters, 
carrying a glass of malted milk. She is a short, thin, wiry 
little woman in the early forties. She is a combination of 
Irish and New England blood, and, as she has lived all her 
days in the Wadsworth family, is more an adherent than a 
servant. She wears a short, straight skirt, a fancy plaid 
shirt waist, and her thin wisp of hair is stretched tightly 
back from her merry, wrinkled face.) 

Hepzibah: I fetched ye a glass o' milk. Mis' Daniel. Harri- 
son sez ye never et a bite to yer lunch. It's real strength- 
enin' ! 

Enid (smiles) : Thanks, Hepsy. I'll drink it when I return. 

Hepzibah: Whar ye goin'.? 



32 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid (gaily) : To have a look at the venerable remains of the 
Charles River. 

Hepzibah (astonished): Shucks! Ye can't go outdoors. It*s 
snowin' ! (Looks towards window.) 

Enid: I know it. 

Hepzibah: An' the windy open! Ah! (An Irish shriek) 
What will Her say! 

(Closes window. Turns to Enid — coaxingly.) 
Be good now. Drink yer milk loike the angel ye air, an' 
tomorrer, when it's foine, shneak deown-teown to the 
movin' pictur show. There's a thriller to the Be-jew. 

Enid (laughs) : You mean the Bijou.^^ 

Hepzibah: Sure. Michael, he tuk me last night. Don't be 
tellin' Her; (jerks thumb towards ceiling). Her thinks 
Hell's paved wid movin' pictur shows. 

Enid: What did you see, Hepsy.^^ 

Hepzibah : Rome — o, and Joo — li — et. Wan Romeo an' 
tin Joo — li — ets. Them Jews have a Mormon manager; 
no wan woman acts fur him. He gives you yer money's 
wuth; hires gals in bunches fur his vow-die- vile. Oh! 
'Twas swell lasht night. They danced grand. One o' 
thim Eytalian dances. Here, I'll show yez. 
(She catches Enid by one hand and Bee by the other. Whistles , 
dances.) 

Bend over loike ye had the colly-wobbles — yez orter 
wear sheets to look right — neow — jump Jim Crow 
wid wan leg, an' balance on the ceilin' loike a mosquity 
wid the other. 
(She kicksy displaying a pair of stout legs in red woolen 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 33 

stockings. Laughing heartily y Enid seizes Bee*s hands and 
they twirl around Hepsy^ Enid singing.) 

Enid : " Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry 
bush, my fair lady." 

{One braid of her hair becomes loosened and falls down over 
her shoulder. Hepsy renews her efforts to amuse the girls. 
Enid sits on a corner of the table and applauds the dancer, 
clapping her hands in time to the whistling, while Bee, smiling , 
leans against the writing desk. Just as Hepsy is kicking her 
highest, Mrs. Wadsworth enters. She is a tiny, frail-looking 
woman, with a very sweet voice, and a gentle deprecating 
manner, which, at times, becomes sternly severe. She wears 
a black silk dress, a tiny white lace cap rests on her white 
hair and a handsome white lace scarf is over her shoulders. 
Carries a work bag. She stands aghast at the tableau.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Hepsy! 

Hepzibah (pauses, with one leg sticking straight out) : Shucks ! 

Mrs. Wadsworth (in her most severe manner): Hepzibah 
Quinn, I am shocked! 

Hepzibah (brings the leg down with a jerk) : Oh ! Peppergrass ! 

Enid (scrambles to her feet): Don't scold her. She was 
amusing us. 

Mrs. Wadsworth (with a withering glance at Enid's dishev- 
elled hair) : So it seems. 
(Enid hastily pins her braid back into place.) 
(To Hepsy) Have you no work to do? 

Hepzibah (mutters): Wurk, wurk is it? IVe wurked me 
fingers to the bone these thirty years to plaze ye, an* me 
mother afore me, an* me feyther afore her. Wurk! 



34 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Who'se moined yer house, an' nussed yer babby, an* 

cooked fur ye, an' fetched fur ye, an' stood ye? Who but 

Hepzibah Quinn. An' neow, whin yer boy fetches hum 

his bride, ye'd begrudge me me innercent fun wid her. 

Watch out, me loidy — I'm lavin' yez. The banshee 

howled again lasht night. I ain't got Irish blood a'flowin' 

wid the Connecticut in me veins fur nothin'. There's bad 

luck a-comin' to this house. Mark me wurds — bad 

luck — bad luck. 

{She trails out mumbling.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth {crosses to grate. Sits, arranges her work 

bag) : If Hepsy was not as faithful as she is foolish I 

would take her at her word one of these days when she 

threatens to leave. But I cannot cope with a new cook 

at my time of life. It is not wise to encourage familiarity 

in her, however. 
Enid {resentfully) : I'm sorry. I had forgotten that in New 

England one may only forget the rules of etiquette with 

one's immediate family. 

{Bee puts finger on lip, but Mrs. Wadsworth does not notice 

the implied rebuke.) 
Mrs. Wadsworth: Would you ring for Harrison, please. 

This room is chilly. 

{Bee rings. Enid gasps and turns towards door.) 

While you were driving yesterday, Enid, Mrs. Barrett 

showed me the new filet lace embroidery. 

{Takes lace pattern from bag.) 

Would you care to learn it .J* 

{She threads needle with blue silk ribbon.) 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 35 

Enid: No, thank you. I never do embroidery. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: But this is quite simple. The pattern is 
in the lace. You cross-stitch it with the ribbon — so. 

Enid: It is such useless work. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Oh, no! It is much fancied for table 
covers and bureau scarfs. 

Enid: You have stacks of those articles already. 

Mrs. Wadsworth (placidly) : A woman must do something. 

Enid (wearily): True. 

(She moves over to the piano and begins to hum under her 
breath, fingering noiselessly on the keyboard.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth: I never learned to run the sewing ma- 
chine. I wish I had. It is a great help when one is mak- 
ing flannel garments for the poor. 

Enid: Why not learn now.f^ 

Mrs, Wadsworth: My dear! At my time of life! 

Enid (coming down): You are not old. Come abroad with 
me and I will show you women, a dozen years your senior, 
who have all sorts of good times. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Yes.^^ There are all sorts of women. I 
am the old-fashioned kind. 
(To Harrison, who enters) Some coal, Harrison. 
(He bows.) (Exits.) 

Big cities and crowds don't attract me. Home is a safe 
place, and I like to stay in it. 

Hepzibah (outside): Aye! pile on the coal, Harrison. Let 
Her warm Herself while Her may. There's bad luck 
a-comin', bad luck — bad luck. 
(Harrison enters with coal which he puts on grate.) 



36 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Mrs. Wadsworth: That will do, Harrison. {He exits.) 

{To Enid) You seem restless, Enid? Don't you want to 
read aloud to me.'* I have not even cut the pages of the 
new " Atlantic." 

Enid: Beatrice and I are going to walk. 

Mrs. Wadsworth {in dismay): To walk! It's snowing! 

Enid: That's what Hepsy said. Is snow dangerous? 

Mrs. Wadsworth : You will certainly catch cold. You have 
a slight cough now. 

Enid : I have had — ever since I can remember. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Then you ought not to be imprudent. 
If you need exercise, Daniel will be delighted to play a 
game of billiards with you. 

Enid {laughs) : No he won't; I can't hit a ball. Don't worry 
about the snow; as a girl I waded through it up to my 
arm-pits. I'm not afraid of Boston slush. 

Mrs. Wadsworth {resigned) : Go — if you must, but be 
sure to wear your overshoes. You have over-shoes, have 
you not? 

Enid {sticks out a well-shod foot) : I wear heavy boots in- 
stead. 

Mrs. Wadsworth {rises, pushes button. Hepzibah enters): 
Hepsy, get my arctics, and put them on this girl's feet, and 
liunt up a pair of rubbers for Miss Stephens. 

{Hepzibah exits.) 
{Enid starts to protest.) 

Not a word — I won't listen to one word. I'm not going 
to have you both down with pneumonia if I can avoid it. 
{She subsides gradually, and the girls exit.) 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 37 

(Harrison enters with a great pile of hooks. 

What are those, Harrison? 
Hepzibah: Mr. Daniel's law books, madam. He told me to 

bring them down stairs. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Take them into the library. 

Hepzibah: Very well, madam. 

(Exits.) 

(Mrs. Wadsworth pokes up the fire, removes lace scarf and 

throws it over the back of her chair. Embroiders. Daniel 

enters.) 
D. Wadsworth: Hello, mater; alone? 
Mrs. Wadsworth: Yes, my son. Bring a chair up to the 

fire. 
D. Wadsworth: Thanks. I'll sit here. 

(Sits by table, takes candy, eats it.) 

I've been rummaging about in the attic until, as Hepsy 

would say, "I'm all het up." 
Mrs. Wadsworth: Harrison fairly staggered under your 

books. 
D. Wadsworth (jovially) : So did I. I've sorted them over, 

but, by Jove, they are blanks to me. 

(Crosses his legs comfortably.) 
Mrs. Wadsworth : There are two things I hope to see before 

I die, Daniel. 
D. Wadsworth: Plenty of time, dear. 
Mrs. Wadsworth: I want to see you established in your 

father's law practice, and I want to see a son of yours. 

entered at Harvard. 

(Daniel suddenly becomes tense, but tries to banter.) 



38 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

D. Wadsworth: Do you hanker to be a female Methuselah? 
Father's practice has scattered to the four corners of the 
globe. It would take more than one life- time to bring it 
together again. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: At the last it was principally the wind- 
ing up of estates. Our old friends would rejoice to put 
their interests into the hands of a Wadsworth. Take 
some one in with you to attend to the details; this Mr. 
Clayton is a nice appearing young man. 

D. Wadsworth (tips back his chair and roars with laughter) : 
Clayton! Heaven forbid. He doesn't know Blackstone 
from the Farmer's Almanac. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: He could learn, I presume. 

D. Wadsworth: Clayton is no subject for a kindergarten. 
His mind goes like a tread mill. He'll write something 
immortal yet. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Too bad! He seems to have little 
means. This would have been an excellent opening for 
him in a business way. 

D. Wadsworth (leans across table) : Mater, you should have 
founded an orphan asylum, then you could have settled 
each little orphan in a nice, comfy niche and left him 
there, with your blessing. Instead of which you have 
one impossible boy who won't stay put. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: At my time of life the only interest one 
has is the welfare of others, and I am anxious about yours. 
Your wife and I are not harmonious, my son. 

D. Wadsworth (rises) : Mother, you don't understand Enid. 

Mrs. Wadsworth : I understand that our lives touch at one 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 39 

point only. We both love you. She desires you should 

have an occupation; I desire you should have a career. 

Make us both happy. Take up your father's profession. 
D. Wadsworth {walks about) : I'll have a try at it, but it 

doesn't interest me. '^ 

Mrs. Wadsworth (briskly): Good. Tomorrow I will give 

you letters to — 
D. Wadsworth: Not tomorrow. 
Mrs. Wadsworth (sharply) : Why not.?^ 
D. Wadsworth: Enid is going away in two weeks. I'll 

begin then. 
Mrs. Wadsworth (surprised): Away? To visit her people? 
D. Wadsworth: No. She has been invited to play at the 

royal marriage in London, and while abroad she wishes 

to spend some time with Miss Morris in Paris. 
Mrs. Wadsworth (speaking with difficulty) : You — will — 

go with her — my son? 
D. Wadsworth (bends; kisses her lightly on the forehead) : 

No, I shall stay with you — and the law. 

(Makes a wry face.) 
Mrs. Wadsworth (catches his hand): Thanks, my son. I 

could not bear to part with you again. 

(Wipes eyes. Suddenly^ with abrupt change of manner) 

Why do you let her go? 
D. Wadsworth (gently) : Enid is not my slave, dear. 
Mrs. Wadsworth : She is your wife. 
D. Wadsworth: She is also an artist. 
Mrs. Wadsworth: She better be a woman. I must not 

judge her too harshly. I was not one myself till you came. 



40 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

I loved your Father — in a give and take fashion — but 
when your baby fingers closed over mine I learned to love 
as God does; giving all, asking nothing. {Very earnestly) 
Make Enid a mother, Daniel; then she won't go trapsing 
around foreign courts like a gypsy. 

D. Wadsworth: Enid is not going to London for amusement. 
She has composed a nocturne, and she is anxious to play 
it before the music-loving English. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: There! She will sacrifice you for this 
child of her brain. 

D. Wadsworth: I am proud to have her go. 

Mrs. Wadsworth (shrewdly) : Oh, no. You are too kind to 
forbid her, but you dislike the idea as much as I do. I've 
noticed that you have been unhappy for several weeks. 
(Firmly) This is your decisive moment, my son. If you 
don't assert your rights now you never will. 

D. Wadsworth: My rights are those of one man. Genius 
belongs to the world. 

Mrs. Wadsworth (with conviction) : Enid is no genius. She 
has remarkable talent and unusual personal charm, but 
she is badly spoiled by having had so much flattery. 

D. Wadsworth: She's only a girl, mother. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: A capricious one. She left her people 
for a musical career. She left Miss Morris, who made that 
career possible, for you. Take care she doesn't leave you 
for the next overwhelming desire that seizes her. 

D. Wadsworth (warmly) : That is unfair and untrue. She 
practically supports her father. She is devoted to Miss 
Morris — I am almost jealous of that good lady — and 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 41 

as for my rights — men are mostly tyrants — I prefer to 
be the exception. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Give me my grandchildren, Daniel. It 
is only a question of time when your wife will wean you 
from me. Don't leave me to grow bitter — alone. 

D. Wadsworth {quietly) : There will be no children, mother. 

Mrs. Wadsworth {puts hand on heart) : Ah ! 

D. Wadsworth: Children are not for a temperamental 
chap like me, and they ruin an artistic woman. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: You are wrong, my son. 

D. Wadsworth {rather roughly to cover over his own emotion) : 
Anyway I don't want any, and I don't propose to have 
any, and we'll not discuss the subject further, if you 
please. 

Mrs. Wadsworth {trembling, puts embroidery in work bag. 
As she rises her eyes fall upon the portrait over the mantel. 
She points to it with one shaking finger.) Suppose old Judge 
Wadsworth had felt as you do.^^ You are the last of your 
family, Daniel, a family that has made history and re- 
made law. You would shirk your responsibilities and 
let it die out. Shame on you ! Not want children — 
you a healthy, sane man. I never thought to condemn 
you, but I condemn you this day as I would any other 
— coward. 

D. Wadsworth: Mother! 

{He sways towards her blindly, but she wards him off, and 
with head erect marches out of the door like a soldier.) 

D. Wadsworth: Oh, my God! 

{He staggers to the writing desk, sits and buries his face in 



42 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

his arms, crying silently. After a minute^ the door is pushed 
softly open and Hepsy tiptoes into the room. She comes to 
Daniely and puts a hand on his shoulder.) 

Hepzibah {in a tone of infinite tenderness) : Laddie ! 

D. Wads WORTH {jumps up, dashes his hand across his eyes): 
Oh, it's you, Hepsy. You caught me napping. 

Hepzibah: I heard Her a-goin' on, and I come to ye, loike 
I used when Her sent ye to bed t'hout yer supper count o* 
yer drawin' pictures in chalk on the mahogany tables. 
Don't moind Her, Mr. Daniel. Her don't mean no harm. 

D. Wadsworth {choking) : I'm discouraged, Hepsy. 

Hepzibah : Michael, he read in the papers heow the city had 
buyed wan o' yer wax figgers to put in the liberry. He 
tuk me deown to look at it t'other night. My, it's grand. 
Chirpsy, Chirsy, what's her name.? 

D. Wadsworth {diverted) : Terpsichore. 

Hepzibah : Ah ! that's her. Say, her is swell ! No man what 
kin turn out a dame loike that need fret if his maw do 
think him a booby. {Daniel grins.) Her kin stand on wan 
toe, can't her? {Illustrates) Better than the movin' 
pictur gals. 

D. Wadsworth {drops wearily into chair by fire): Yes, I was 
proud of her once, Hepsy. 

Hepzibah {timidly) : Wat be the matter widyez, Mr. Daniel? 
Yer don't mess reound in them white pinny fores no more 
t'all. Yer alius dressed up, settin' on a chair, loike ye 
wuz yer Paw. Ain't yer makin' no wax figgers neow? 

D. Wadsworth: No, Hepsy. I am about to become an — 
ornament (?) of the bar. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 43 

Hepzibah (anxiously): Shucks! Ye h'ain't taken to liquor 
be ye? Don't do it, Mr. Daniel. It's been the ruin o' 
Michael.^ 

D. Wadsworth: No, no. I am going to have a law office; 
like father. 

Hepzibah {in disgust) : Shucks ! You hain't no liar. It's Her 
hes bin a-pesterin' ye agin. Her alius wuz at it, sence ye 
wore knickeys. Don't moind Her I say. Ye wuz born 
wid spice to ye, an' Her can't git it out by tryin' to make 
ye over into a yeast cake; we can't all riz over night. 
Mebbe makin' wax figgers hain't so payin' a business as 
lyin', but it agreed wid ye, and ye don't need the money. 
Her alius did try to keep everybody's nose to the grind- 
stun. 

D. Wadsworth: You mustn't speak that way of mother. 

Hepzibah : Shucks ! I worship the ground Her walks on, 
but I wish to Hiven Her would act loike Her wuz at a 
weddin' sometimes, 'stead o' alius at a fun'rel. Say, Mr. 
Daniel, I tell ye what this heouse needs — (comes close 
impressively) a babby! That'd chirk her up wonderful. 

D. Wadsworth (laughs) : Marry Michael and have one, 
Hepsy. I'll be its god-father. 

Hepzibah (chuckles): Shucks! Yer a caution. Michael an' 
me is out o' the runnin,' but you an' Mis' Daniel neow — 

D. Wadsworth: No, Hepsy. Luck isn't headed my way. 
Tell Michael I say he's missing his opportunities. I never 
offered to be a god-father before. 

Hepzibah: Shucks, Mr. Daniel! Quit yer foolin'. 

(Jack is heard outside singing , " We're three jolly good fel- 
lows. '^ He enters with Enid on one arm, Bee on the other.) 



44 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Jack Clayton: Here we are — the three musketeers, ready 
for adventure — folly — and fun. Hello, Hepsy. What 
are you going to give us for dinner? Tack-pie? 

Hepzibah (chuckles) : Something loike it, Mr. Jack. 
(Whispers) Hardtack! 

Jack Clayton (with mock dismay) : Oh Lord ! 

Hepzibah: An' — clam-chowder. Shucks! it's past five neow, 
an' folkses a-comin' to dinner. I must be a-movin'. 
(Exits humming ** Fm a jolly good feller.*') 

Jack Clayton (takes envelope from pocket; hands to Daniel) : 
Here you are, old man. Two outside state rooms and 
some money back. 

Enid: We went to Cook's and got them at a bargain, 

D. Wadsworth: Remnants? 

Enid (nods): One belonged to a stout gentleman; he is get- 
ting the gout. The other to a thin lady; she is getting a 
divorce. 

D. Wadsworth (examines them): Only to Liverpool! Why 
didn't you buy them through to Paris? 

Jack Clayton: Enid wouldn't let me. 

Enid: After we land, I propose to pay our expenses. 

Beatrice: Enid! You never could keep track of money. 

Jack Clayton: Lady fair, my fortune is ever at your dis- 
posal, but my face is my sole asset at present. Do you 
propose we travel to Paris on that? 

D. Wadsworth : I have already placed $2,000 to your credit 
at a bank in Paris, Enid. 

Enid : I won't touch it — not one penny of it. I can earn my 
own money and I intend doing so. 

(Takes hat and coat^ and exits.) 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 45 

Jack Clayton (whistles) : Phew ! 

(To Daniel) What's the matter with your money, old 

man? 
D. Wadsworth: I have no idea. 
Jack Clayton: This London adventure begins to look like 

a frost. 
D. Wadsworth: I will simply change the Paris account to 

your name, Miss Stephens, and I will place another 

$2,000 to your credit in London, Clayton. I'll attend to 

it at once. 

(Exits.) 
Beatrice: He's a brick! 
Jack Clayton: Good stuff. I wonder what Enid is up to.^^ 

At least we can't complain. We might run away with our 

respective gold-pots. Feel like eloping, Bee.'^ 
Beatrice: I feel like asking you a question. 
Jack Clayton (sits on sofa) : I have long wanted to ask you 

one. Come, and begin. 

(Pats sofa invitingly.) 
Beatrice : How can you go to London and have your novel 

ready for Harper's by the first of April? 
Jack Clayton (cheerfully) : I can't. 
Beatrice: Then why do you go? 
Jack Clayton: You are going, are you not? 
Beatrice : Oh, Jack, be sensible. This is an opportunity you 

can't afford to miss. 
Jack Clayton: "Miss Opportunity has very short back 

hair. Grab her by the pompadour." Girls don't wear 

pompadours any more; what would be the correct phrase? 



46 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Beatrice: They are planning to bring it out in serial form, 
are they not? 

Jack Clayton: The opportunity? 

Beatrice (stamps) : Your novel. 

Jack Clayton: Oh yes, yes. My novel. Yes. They think 
it's doomed to be a " best seller," consequently they will 
publish it in their magazine and try it on the country 
dog. 

Beatrice: You ought to make a lot of money on it. 

Jack Clayton: Daresay. 

Beatrice (with decision): You must finish it. Enid and I 
don't need you. 

Jack Clayton (ruefully) : You never do. 

Beatrice: We can manage alone. 

Javk Clayton (rising) : This time you are going to be man- 
aged. — within an inch of your lives. Woe be, if you don't 
make those English nobles sit up and take notice. I 
shall beat you with a stick no thicker than my thumb. 
That's English law; Wadsworth looked it up for me. 
Too bad my thumb isn't thicker. It won't hurt much. 

Beatrice (imploring) : Don't go, Jack. I'll look after Enid. 

Jack Clayton: Who will look after you — dear? 

Beatrice : I don't count. You do, and Enid does. Of course 
she'll miss you, but she will have to get used to missing 
you, sometime. 

Jack Clayton: Beatrice, you urged Enid to marry Wads- 
worth, didn't you? 

Beatrice: Yes. 

Jack Clayton: Why? 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 47 

Beatrice: She was beginning to care for you. 

Jack Clayton : Yes — and — ? 

Beatrice: You had no income. 

Jack Clayton: Good Lord! was that it.^^ 

Beatrice: What else? 

Jack Clayton: Oh, I'm a conceited ass, — only — nothing. 

(Suddenly) I had hoped you might have been jealous. 
Beatrice: Jack, will you finish your novel for Harper's? 
Jack Clayton: I will — so help me Bob. 

(He holds out his hand. She takes it impulsively.) 
Beatrice: That's fine. 
Jack Clayton (holding her hand fast) : Now let me ask my 

question. 
Beatrice (flurried) : It's time to dress for dinner. 
Jack Clayton: Hang dinner! Bee, dear — 
Beatrice (gently disengaging herself): Not now. Jack. 

(Smiles) You are disposed of, but I still have Enid to 

look after. 
Jack Clayton (carelessly) : Oh, I'll look after Enid. 
Beatrice: You? 
Jack Clayton: I'm twins. 
Beatrice: You persist in going with us. 
Jack Clayton: Can't let you out of my sight. 
Beatrice : (vehemently) : Then I wash my hands of you — 

both. 

(Exits, slams door.) 

Jack Clayton : Phew ! So — that's the way the wind blows. 
(He goes over before the fire and balances on his toes medita- 
tively.) (Enid enters.) 



48 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid: Hello, Jacky. I'm disappointed. I thought you were 

Daniel. 
Jack Clayton : Shades of Penelope ! Haven't I devoted this 
whole, perfectly good day to chasing about Boston on 
your errands? Am I not going to cross the ocean for you, 
though I hate water like a cat? Haven't I agreed to 
hobnob with dirty musicians and obsequious reporters in 
your behalf, and still you cry out, *' Where, oh where is 
my husband? " What has he done so great? 

Enid (sits): Dear Jack! You and Hepsy are the only ones 
can make me laugh these days. 
{Clasps hands over kneeSy and broods.) 

Jack Clayton (gently) : I am neither a priest nor a doctor, 
Princess, but I am willing to listen if you want to tell me 
where the ache is. 

Enid: Don't! I'm perilously near tears tonight. Don't be 
good to me. Blame me, as Bee does, or disapprove of 
me, as Mrs. Wadsworth does, or amuse me, as Hepsy 
does, or hurt me, as Daniel does, but don't, don't be good 
to me, or I shall break down. 

Jack Clayton (whimsically): Does Wadsworth beat you 
with a stick no thicker than his thumb? 

Enid: Jack, promise me something. 

Jack Clayton: Another! I've passed one set of good resolu- 
tions today. 

Enid : Promise me that you will stand by me, through thick 
and thin. 

Jack Clayton: Sounds like the marrigage service. 

Enid: No matter how absurd you may think me; no matter 
how wicked. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 49 

Jack Clayton {gravely) : No right ever came out of a wrong, 
Princess. 

Enid: I can't explain, but I must get away and think out 
what I am to do. It's hard on you, because people may 
think, when you know the truth, you should tell Daniel, 
but you won't, will you? 

Jack Clayton: What is — the truth.? 

Enid {suddenly turns, puts arm over chair hack and head on it.) 
{sobs): Oh, I want Morry. If she were only here. Oh 
Morry, Morry dear! 

Jack Clayton {thoughtfully): There, there, you are over- 
wrought. 

Enid : That's what — you all — say. 

Jack Clayton : You married on top of a champagne supper, 
as it were. You were worn out by the sparkle of your 
first season. Morry said so, but you looked so fit we 
didn't believe her, and you have had a hard row to hoe 
with the ancient Wadsworth, but new scenes will set you 
up in no time. 

Enid {dries her eyes) : I am not ill, and I am not fanciful, and 
I am not ennuye; I've blundered, and I'm paying the 
penalty. You and Morry are the only people I have to 
turn to — Bee will side with Daniel. If you will do as 
I ask — without question — until I can readjust things 
{her voice breaks) I may pull through. If not — {she ges- 
tures hopelessly). 

Jack Clayton {cheerfully) : I'm just the brother you are look- 
ing for. Chirk up. Princess. My book can wait. Morry 
and I will have you jolly as a sand-piper in no time. 



50 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid: Listen, that's Daniel. 
Jack Clayton: I'm off. 
Enid: Thanhs^ Jack. 

{He exits. Enid stands tensely waiting.) 
D. Wadsworth {outside) : I have attended to that money 

matter. Hope the arrangement will be satisfactory. 
Jack Clayton {outside) : Sure to be, old man. 

{Daniel enters. He is in evening clothes. He does not see 

Enid at once. During the following scene it grows gradually 

dark until the room is illumined hy nothing but the flickering 

fire.) 
Enid {timidly:) Daniel? 

{He stands mute) In two weeks I shall be gone. 

{Goes to him. Touches his sleeve) Won't you kiss me? 
D. Wadsworth {stiffly) : Since the night I found your door 

locked against me you have shown scant desire for my 

caresses. 
Enid {holds out both hands) : Look ! my hands are so thin my 

engagement ring won't stay on, and my wedding ring is 

loose. 
D. Wadsworth: I have suffered, too. 
Enid {humbly): I'm sorry. I had no mother to go to, and 

Morry is so far away, and I was frightened. 
D. Wadsworth: Of me? 
Enid: Of — life. 
D. Wadsworth: I did everything a man could to please 

you, Enid. I denied you nothing. I gave you your own 

way in every particular. 
Enid : I believe you — meant to. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 51 

D. Wadsworth: Our summer whirled away in sunshine, and 
then, out of a clear sky, this storm broke. You planned 
for a concert tour without consulting me, and you be- 
came absorbed in your music to my complete exclusion. 

Enid (dreamily) : The nocturne is you. My tender thoughts 
of you in the night-time, gathered up like flowers and tied 
together by one thread of passion. 

D. Wadsworth: If you love me, why do you go away ? 

Enid : I must, dear. I must keep busy. I meant to tell you 
— everything — that last day at Hillcrest. I planned for 
the afternoon, alone with you in the old studio, but you 
went driving with your mother, and were cross when I 
did not accompany you. I couldn't, dear. I was really 
ill then. That night I was too miserable to let you in my 
room. You are proud — so am I, but I can't leave you 
this way, I can't, dear — (sobs) for I may — never — 
come back. 

D. Wadsworth (starts) : You would part from me? 

Enid : I may — die. 

D. Wadsworth (relieved) : You are nervous, Enid. You 
ought to rest, not go dashing off to Paris. I don't object, 
if you fancy the change will benefit you, but you would 
be better off at home. 

Enid: No, dear, just now I shall be happier at work. 

D. Wadsworth: Why did you refuse that money today? 

Enid: I need an incentive to keep me up to the mark. 

D. Wadsworth: The money is yours anyway. Use it or 
not, it is there if you need it. That knocks out the incen- 
tive idea; it did for me. I think if I had been hungry. 



52 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

just once, and could not have cashed a check, I might 

have been a sculptor. 
Enid {eagerly): You are a sculptor. Daniel, come with me 

to Paris. We'll study together. We'll find out just why 

you failed in the salon. Boston has recognized your 

ability. Your Terpsichore is the talk of the town. 
D. Wadsworth: Don't tempt me. It would break mother's 

heart. 
Enid: It breaks mine to have you idle. 
D. Wadsworth: I'm going in for the law. I promised 

mother I would, not an hour ago. 
Enid: Other promises have been broken. You promised 

me — 

{Mrs. Wadsworth opens the door.) 
Mrs. Wadsworth: Daniel, are you there? 
D. Wadsworth: Yes, mother. 
Mrs. Wadsworth: Why are you in the dark? 

{She touches an electric button and the lights flare up.) {To 

Enid) Not dressed for dinner, Enid? It's past six; the 

Hudsons will arrive any minute. 
Enid: I'm sorry. I had forgotten dinner. 
Mrs. Wadsworth : Hurry, please. Mrs. Hudson dislikes to 

be kept waiting. 
Enid: Then won't I do as I am? This is a brand new frock. 

I'll smooth my hair. 

{As she goes to mirror to do so, she sees the lace scarf Mrs. 

Wadsworth has left over chair.) 

Look, Daniel dear. Do you remember how I used to dress 

for our dinners in the Latin Quarter. When all my francs 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 53 

went for music lessons, a lace scarf constituted my entire 
dinner wardrobe. 

{She drapes it artistically over her shoulders and tucks the 
ends away in her belt. She takes a rose from the vase and 
fastens it in her hair. As she is doing so, Beatrice and Jack 
in evening clothes enter talking.) 

Enid: {swings around): There! How do you like me? 

Mrs. Wadsworth {very coldly) : That might pass for dress 
in the Latin Quarter, but I should call it masquerading, 
and rather vulgar masquerading at that. You will oblige 
me by going directly to your room and making yourself 
presentable for my guests. 

{She moves serenely over to the fire. There is a moment of 
absolute silence. Enid looks at Daniel^ but he has turned 
his back on both women. Bee goes to the book shelves, but 
Jack steps protectingly towards Enid. She clasps both 
hands tightly over her heart, her eyes flash.) 

Enid : Yes, I will go to my room, and I will stay there until 
I can get passage on the first out-going steamer, and I will 
never, never return to this house again. 

D. Wadsworth {quickly) : I will go with you. 

Enid: No. Remain where you are. You belong here. I 
don't. Jack will see that no harm comes to me. 
{Both men step forward simultaneously one on either side 
of her, and look angrily at each other. A bell rings outside.} 
{To Mrs. Wadsworth) There are your guests. Kindly 
make my excuses to them. I bid you {moves to door. 
Jack springs to open it for her) a very good — evening. 

{She exits. Others stare after her.) 



54 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Harrison (Harrison enters): Mr. and Mrs. Hudson, 

madam. 
Mrs. Wadsworth: Shall we go into the drawing room? 

(Moves to door.) 
CURTAIN 



ACT III 



ACT III 

The library at Hillcrest, the country home of the Wadsworth 
family, five p. m., one June day, two years later. It is a richly 
furnished, panelled room, one side of which is lined with books 
in cases, the other is of glass through which may be seen the 
garden outside. There are practical doors on both sides, and 
double alcoves, one at Right containing a tea table and a tall 
clock, the one at Left a writing desk. A large table at Centre 
contains magazines, a smoking set, and a vase, filled with 
flowers (poppies). A long cushioned seat runs under the 
window. There is a fireplace at Centre, with shelves above 
it. A silver calendar is on the table. 

As CURTAIN RISES, Enid is discovcrcd reading in easy chair. 
She is beautifully dressed in the latest mode, white afternoon 
gown and wears a number of sapphires. She has changed the 
arrangement of her hair to conform to fashion, but both in 
costume and hair-dressing retains a hint of her former quaint- 
ness. She is much more mature, and has gained repose. 

Beatrice: A letter, Enid. 

Enid (rises quickly): From Paris? 

Beatrice (gives it) : I believe so. (Sits right of table.) 

Enid (stands left of table. Reads. Cries out) : He has been ill ! 
Morry would not write for fear of frightening me. (Reads 
on) He is all right now — ** adorable," she says. (Fin- 
ishes letter. Turns silver calendar towards her.) This is 
the tenth of June. I don't dare ask Daniel to let me go 
abroad again until after Christmas. Six months — and 
an ocean between him and me ! (Folds letter y puts in bosom. 
Would to Heaven I didn't have a Puritan conscience 
tucked away inside my French heart. 



58 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Beatrice: Would to Heaven you had some common-sense. 

Enid {laughs. Goes behind Beatrice — puts both hands on her 
shoulders)'. Poor Bee! casting in her lot with a gypsy 
whom no amount of persuasion can transform into a 
pillar of society ! (Kisses her on top of head) I am so over- 
joyed at having you with me once more that I may con- 
sent to any sane and — impossible — course of action 
you recommend. 

Beatrice (earnestly) : Tell your husband. 

Enid (moves away to Left, behind table, and arranges Jlmvers 
in vase) : I said *' sane," my dear. 

Beatrice: You can't deceive him much longer. The news- 
papers are likely to get hold of the story at any moment. 
I don't see how you ever kept it from them. 

Enid (dreamily) : That funny, quaint old house in Brittany ! 
Flooded with sunshine and buried in roses. I think the 
birds sang there all day and all night. I heard them in 
my sleep. 

Beatrice (shortly): If Mrs. Wadsworth had not had a 
stroke of apoplexy, you would have heard the toot of 
your husband's automobile. 

Enid (laughs) : You forget, my dear. Daniel scorns automo- 
biles. The noble animal called *' an horse " is the hobby 
he rides. He went to the Merriman show this after- 
noon. 

(Goes to clock) He should be back soon. (Stands looking 
out window.) 

Beatrice: I don't wish to meddle in your affairs, Enid, but 
Mr. Wadsworth is desperately unhappy. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 59 

Enid {over her shoulder) : If you are interested in skeletons, 

there are several in our family closet. 
Beatrice: I never saw a man so changed. 
Enid {sits in easy chair) : Two years can change even a gran- 
ite boulder, and Daniel's nature is not adamantine. 
Beatrice: There are depths to Mr. Wadsworth you have 

never sounded. 
Enid: My dear Bee, Lillith doubtless made that remark to 
Mrs. Eve regarding Adam — not that I am comparing 
you with the famous first disturber of domestic bliss. No 
other woman can view a man from the same angle as his 
wife; consequently all other women are united in think- 
ing she fails to see him as he is. I appreciate Daniel. I 
live with his good qualities, but I occasionally meditate 
on his bad ones. 
Beatrice: If Eve went mooning about as you do, Adam 

wasn't to blame for noticing Lillith. 
Enid: Precisely what do you mean by " mooning about? " 
Beatrice: Oh! — acting as if your thoughts were a thousand 

miles away. 
Enid: They are — I am not sure of the exact distance, but 

they are across the ocean. 
Beatrice: And Mr. Wadsworth knows it. You stayed in 
France from Spring until winter that first visit. Since 
then you have been over twice. Naturally, your husband 
concludes someone besides Morry is the attraction. 
Enid: My music. 

Beatrice {shakes her head): You have composed nothing 
new, and when you broke your London contract, you did 



60 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

yourself out of future concert work. No, he is not jealous 
of your music. 

Enid (rises. Walks about) : My dear Bee, don't be analytical. 
Daniel is simply drifting with the tide of prosperity; oc- 
casionally it breaks over his head. 

Beatrice: And what are you standing on the bank for? 
Why don't you dash in and pull him out.? 

Enid: I don't dare. We should both go under. 

Beatrice: You are daring enough in other ways. What do 
you expect to gain by your secrecy? 

Enid : Time, for one thing. (Absently.) 

Beatrice: You have had two years, and things are getting 
worse. 

Enid: That's the point. 

Beatrice: You can't expect a man to wear a halo for break- 
fast, Enid. You would hate him if he did. Besides, your 
own behavior has not been angelic. When he finds out 
what you have done, he may not forgive you. 

Enid: Then I shall have to earn a living. 

Beatrice (with growing irritation): You can't. You proved 
that two years ago. You are so accustomed to luxury now, 
you canH grapple with necessity. We should have been 
stranded high and dry in Paris if Mr. Wadsworth had 
not put that money to your credit. 

Enid : The circumstances were unusual. 

Beatrice: Circumstances are a toboggan slide. One gen- 
erally lands at the bottom of the hill if she trusts to them. 
Take my advice, and stay on top with your husband. 

Enid (takes a bit of white work from basket on table and em- 
broiders a few stitches) : He isn't — on top. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 61 

Beatrice: What do you mean? 

Enid (Puts down embroidery. Sits back of table; leans arms 
across it. Speaks very earnestly) : You hinted at other 
women. It has not come to that — as yet, but he reads 
books he would not have given house room once. He 
goes to plays he would have condemned unheard. His 
men companions are clever — but unpleasant. 

Beatrice: That's nothing. When a man doesn't get what 
is due him at home, he seeks it elsewhere. Mr. Wadsworth 
likes people; he looked forward to a rather brilliant social 
life with you as its centre. Don't you realize, Enid, that 
you have checkmated every move the man has made.^^ 

Enid : That's no excuse for his indolence. 

Beatrice : I don't see how you can call Daniel Wadsworth 
indolent. He is always busy at something. He was up 
at daybreak this morning. I heard him going out to the 
stables. He made a hard cross-country run, and now he is 
riding at the show. What you mean is, he hasn't realized 
your ambitions for him. Well, you haven't realized his 
for you. 

Enid: Hush! here comes Mrs. Wadsworth. You will find 
her more changed than Daniel. 

{Enid goes to easy chair and arranges it vnih cushions from 
the window seat. 

{Beatrice goes to alcove at rights and stands by desk. Mrs. 
Wadsworth enters in a wheeled chair, pushed by Hepsy. 
She has failed noticeably, and her voice is querulous.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Do be careful, Hepsy. You push me 
around as if I were a meal bag. 



62 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Hepzibah: Shucks! I couldn't handle yez carefuller if ye 
was a crab. 

Enid : Bring mother over here into the sun, Hepsy . 
(Hepsy and Enid assist Mrs. Wadsworth to chair.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Now, Hepsy, bring me my tonic, and 
be quick about it. 

Hepzibah: Yis'm. {Turns quickly, knocks over vase, flowers 
fall on the floor.) Oh — pepper-grass ! 

Beatrice (comes forward) : I'll pick them up. {Does so.) 

Hepzibah : Thanks, Miss Bee — Sure yer a sight fer sore 
eyes. {Exits.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Hepsy grows more awkward everyday. 

Enid (brightly): She grows older every day, mother. {Takes 
Bee's hand) This is my friend, Miss Stephens. You re- 
member she stopped with us two years ago, in Boston. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Certainly, I recall Miss Stephens per- 
fectly. {To Bee) When did you arrive? 

Beatrice: Last night. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Ah! I live in my room, and so see little 
of our company. Where is Daniel, Enid.?^ 

Enid: At the Merriman show. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Horses, horses, always horses. He has 
a stableful of them. 

Enid {soothingly) : He has great hopes of his new mare, Blue- 
belle. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: If his father knew Daniel was showing 
horses, he would turn in his grave. Sometimes I am 
tempted to spend the summer elsewhere. Since Hillcrest 
has become fashionable, it is no longer admirable. 
{Hepsy enters with tonic) Did you wash the spoon? 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 63 

Hepzibah: Yis'm. 

Mrs. Wadsworth (takes tonic) : By the way, Miss Stephens, 
what became of that nice young man who visited us when 
you did? Mr. — Taylor, wasn't it 

(Gives Hepsy spoon and bottle, she exits. Enid goes to fire- 
place and stands, back to the others. Bee glances at her 
quickly, then replies.) 

Beatrice: Clayton. 

Mrs. Wadsworth : Yes, that was the name. Where is he now.^* 

Beatrice (again looks at Enid) : In Paris. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: He was a gentleman, although he was 
literary. I have wished many times my son had taken 
him into the law oflSce as I suggested. 

Beatrice: Has Mr. Wadsworth a large practice.'' 

Mrs. Wadsworth : Almost none. During my illness he was 
obliged to drop his first important cases. Mr. Clayton 
might have attended to them for him. The principal 
client was a widow; she would have courted delay — with 
a good-looking bachelor. 

Beatrice (gently) : I do not hear personally from Mr. Clay- 
ton, but I understand he has recently published a remark- 
able novel. 

Mrs. W^adsworth: Too bad! Now he will never care to go 
into business with Daniel. 

Enid: (Although evidently vexed, laughs as she turns around): 
Why don't you say — " too bad the universe isn't turned 
by our wind mill? " 

Mrs. Wadsworth (gently) : We each have our own universe, 
dear. Daniel is mine. 



64 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Beatrice {at window): A gentleman is coming up the 
drive. 

Enid {looks out of the window) : Mercy ! the rector is arriving 
in time for tea. He comes regularly now, and by his ap- 
petite I should judge his housekeeper is not generous. I 
must warn Harrison to have toast and muffins in abund- 
ance. 

{Rings. Harrison enters.) 
Order tea, toast, muffins, and cakes at once. Harrison. 

Harrison: Very well, madam. {Exits.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Mr. Lapum is an excellent pastor, but 
he is beginning to be a nuisance. Since pouring tea is my 
only accomplishment at present, possibly he fancies it 
pleases me to have a constant guest. 
{Harrison ushers in the Rev. Lapum. He is a ruddy ^ genial, 
middle-aged Englishman; effusive and affected, hut evident- 
ly genuine and sincere.) 

Lapum {hows low): Ah! good afternoon, ladies. This is a 
pretty day, I may say a most pretty day. I trust I find 
you in good spirits today, Mrs. Wadsworth. {Shakes 
hands.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Fairly so, thank you. 

Lapum : And the young Mrs. Wadsworth ! No need to inquire 
after your health. Blooming as ever — ever blooming. 

Enid: My friend, Miss Stephens, Mr. Lapum. 

Lapum: Ah! charmed to meet you, Miss Stephens. I take 
it you are a new-comer to our crested hills — Hillcrest — 
crested hills — you see.'' 

Beatrice: I have only a day's acquaintance with them. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 65 

{Harrison enters with tea tray; puts it on table and wheels 

it over to Mrs. Wadsworth. Exits.) 
Lapum (smacks his lips) : Your lines have fallen in pleasant 

places. 

{Draws a chair over near Mrs. Wadsworth.) 
Enid (roguishly) : Bee has given up the tea habit. 
Lapum (sympathetically): Ah! indigestion? 
Beatrice: No — inclination. 
Lapum : I find it a soothing beverage — I may say — most 

soothing. 

(Takes cup from Mrs. Wadsworth and carries it to Enid, 

who sits by table.) 
Enid: Try the cream cakes, Bee. They are harmless. 
Lapum: But insidious — most insidious. I have to check 

my tendency to partake too freely of them. 

(Bee laughst takes cake. Mr. Lapum sits and partakes 

largely of toast and cakes with tea.) 
Mrs. Wadsworth : If you will excuse me, Mr. Lapum, I will 

go out for a breath of air while the sun is still shining. 

Ring for Hepsy, please, Enid. 

(Enid pushes button.) 
Lapum: If you were a fairy godmother, Mrs. Wadsworth, I 

would ask you to grant me a wish before you go. 
Mrs. Wadsworth: I'm not. What is it? 
Lapum: That Miss Stephens might prove a musician. 
Enid: Here's your chance, mother. Weave your spell, and 

when Bee emerges — presto, she plays the piano. 
Mrs. Wadsworth (to Bee) : You do play, do you not? 

(Hepsy enters.) 

Wheel me out on the terrace, Hepsy. 



66 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Hepzibah: Yis'm. 

(Assists her into wheel chair.) 
Mrs. Wadsworth: Good afternoon, Mr. Lapum. Stay and 

see Daniel. He will be home soon. 
Lapum: I thank you. I came over, as a matter of fact, to 

try to induce Mr. Wadsworth to start a class in modeling 

at the parish house. 
Mrs. Wadsworth: If I were a fairy godmother, I would 

certainly loan you my wand for that purpose. I hope 

you are succeeding in your educational endeavor. 
Lapum : The results are gratifying. I may say — most 

gratifying. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Good. I'll mail you a check in the 

morning. Now, Hepsy. 

{Exits at left.) 

Lapum : A mother in Israel ! I may say — a godmother, de- 
spite her protests! 
(To Bee) And so, you do play, Miss Stephens. 

Beatrice: People are kind enough to say so. 

Lapum: Good! most good. 

(Puts down his tea and goes to her with enthusiasm.) 
Could you — would you be persuaded to assist Mrs. 
Wadsworth with her classes? 

Beatrice (to Enid in astonishment): Classes.'^ 

Enid (takes Mrs. WadswortKs place at tea table) : I have taken 
on a number of the villagers as violin pupils. Mr. Lapum 
is forming classes to keep the young people interested in 
the church during the summer. 

Lapum (sighs) : Summer is a most trying season in the Lord's 
vineyard. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 67 

Enid (seriously) : You will want to help, Bee. There is con- 
siderable talent among the children. If I could, I would 
establish an American conservatory of music free to all. 

Lapum (cheerfully) : Why not, why not? " Feed my lambs." 
Music is food for the imagination. Charity too often 
begins and ends with the stomach. 
(Eats serenely of a large piece of toast.) 

Beatrice (laughs) : One can't go far on an empty one. 

Enid : This would not be charity exactly. 

(Door at left opens and Miss Birdie Holly flutters in. She 
is a chirpy y country girl (?) of thirty -five, very sprightly and 
youngish. She has dark hair frizzed about her face, and 
snappy black eyes. She wears a yellow muslin dress, and a 
black hat trimmed with yellow.) 

Birdie: Howdy do, everybody. How cosy and gossipy you 
look. I just ran over to tell you the latest. (Shakes finger 
coyly at Mr. Lapum.) Better go away, Mr. Lapum; it's 
not proper. 

Lapum (gallantly, as he rises, tea plate in hand) : You are ever 
a bird of good omen. Miss Birdie. 

Birdie (tips head sidewise, twitters) : Hear that ! Bird — 
— birdie. You're wonderful on puns, Mr. Lapum. Why 
don't you use 'em in your sermons? So many more per- 
sons would attend service — not but what you are inter- 
esting enough as 'tis. 

Enid: Miss Holly, this is my musical friend. Miss Stephens. 

Birdie (shakes hands with Bee) : Oh, I love music. 

(Lapum sits and eats on. Birdie sits left of long table, Bee 
back of table, Enid at tea table.) 



68 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid: Tea? 

Birdie: No — no tea, thank you. I'm too full of news. 
(Imjpressively) The neighbors are up in arms. 

Enid: About what.'^ 

Birdie: The Handy dinner last night. You know Mrs. 
Handy sailed Monday. It seems that Tuesday morning 
Mr. Handy asked a number of men from town to dine 
with him and go to the Merriman show today. He also 
asked several of our men. (To Enid) Wasn't Mr. Wads- 
worth there .^^ 

Enid: Yes; I went for Miss Stephens and he thought he 
would not dine at home alone. 

Birdie: An excuse to get away! I dare say he was as crazy 
to be at the Handy racket as the other men. 

Lapum: Explain yourself. Miss Birdie. 

Birdie (to Enid) : Did you see two girls get off the train — 
two huzzies? 

Enid: No. 

Birdie: Well, they did. They were at the Handy dinner, 
dressed — {indicates very low neck and short skirt) as if 
they wasn't dressed; and after the champagne they 
danced on the table! ! ! 

Lapum: Scandalous! 

Enid: How do you know this? 

Birdie: Mr. Handy discharged the cook. Said he could get 
on with the Jap butler. She suspicioned, left some 
things in her room, returned for them, and saw the whole 
performance. She said Mr. Handy was too fond of his 
victuals to stand for Japanese cooking unless mischief 
was brewing. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 69 

Lapum (piously helps himself to a cream cake) : Be sure your 

sins will find you out! 
Birdie (admiringly): Dear Mr. Lapum, you are perfect! 
Lapum: I strive to be, Miss Birdie. 

(A horse is heard galloping up to the porch outside. All 

involuntarily start, and look through the window.) 
D. Wads WORTH (outside) : Take the mare over to the stables, 

Edwards. 
Lapum (rises nervously) : I must be going. Sorry — but 

Saturday is my busy day. 
Birdie: Oh, donH go. Stay and reprimand Mr. Wadsworth. 

It will be such fun! 
Beatrice (mischievously): How about the class in modeling? 
Lapum (coughs) : Some more seasonable time, my dear young 

ladies. 

(Bows and backs out precipitately at right.) 

If you will excuse me — ladies. 

(Daniel in riding clothes, enters left.) 
Birdie: We were just speaking of you, Mr. Wadsworth. It 

was no case of angels, either. 
D, Wadsworth: Oh, good afternoon. Miss Holly. (To 

Enid) Bluebelle won the blue! 
Enid: I'm glad. Have some tea? 
D. Wadsworth: Don't mind if I do. The roads are dusty. 

(Flecks trousers with crop.) 
Birdie (significantly) : And I dare say you are dry. 
D. Wadsworth: I beg your pardon? 
Birdie: We heard how naughty you were, — last night. 

(Shakes finger at him playfully.) 

Oh fie! 



70 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid : Miss Holly is disturbed over the Handy party. 

{Offers him tea^ which he takes.) 
Birdie : You were the one who drove those girls back to the 
junction just as the sun was coming up. The cook's 
brother is station agent. He saw you. 

D. Wads WORTH {sets his tea down untasted): How in the 
deuce — ? 

Birdie: — did I hear of it.f* A little bird told me. As dear 
Mr. Lapum would say, bird — birdie! {Twitters.) 
{Rises) Now I must run along. I have two more calls to 
make. I understand you are in charge of the violin 
church classes, Mrs. Wadsworth. I'm to have the singing. 
{Sings, extravagantly )*' Spring is com — m — ing, Spring 
is com — ing." {Cowen's " Awakening.'') Good bye, 
Mrs. Wadsworth. Good bye, Miss Stephens, run over 
and try my new piano. Good bye, Mr. Wadsworth. 
{Daniel opens door at right for her.) 
You of all men ! Oh fie ! ! 

{Exits.) 

D. Wadsworth {looks after her): Two more calls, eh! What 
a pity the cat never caught that canary ! 
[Enid embroiders.) 

Beatrice {leisurely) : Tell us about the show. 

D. Wadsworth {manifestly upset) : Only a country affair, 
but I enjoyed training Bluebelle. She was wild as a 
hawk when I bought her. Do you ride? 

Beatrice: I'm a Kentucky girl. 

D. Wadsworth : Good. Have a canter with me before break- 
fast tomorrow. I'll give you Bluebelle for your mount. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 71 

Beatrice {sweeps him a curtesy) : Before breakfast, or after 
breakfast, or during breakfast. I warn you I ride like the 
wind. That's the only fast thing I do. Have you a riding 
habit, Enid.? 

Enid: No. I don't ride. Ask Hepsy. She will hunt one up 
for you. 

Beatrice: I'll find her now. 

(Exits.) 
(Enid continues to embroider. Daniel glances apprehen- 
sively at her several times. Lights a cigar — lays it down on 
tray.) 

D. Wadsworth: Well.^^ (No response.) Why don't you say 
something? 

Enid: There seems to be nothing to say. 

D. Wadsworth: Bad as that, eh? 

(He takes a turn or two across the room. Comes back to 
table. Toys with paper cutter.) 
Yesterday was my birthday. 

Enid (drops embroidery) : I had forgotten. 

D. Wadsworth: So had mother — for the first time. Her 
memory has not been good since the stroke, but she never 
forgot her boy's birthday before. 

Enid: I'm sorry. 

D. Wadsworth: Oh, it's of no consequence — only — when 
Handy asked me to make one of his crowd, I declined. I 
was not aware of his plan for our entertainment, but he 
had impressed me as a shade more vulgar than the other 
new-comers, and I did not care to accept his hospitality. 

Enid : Then I left you to dine alone on your — birthday. 



72 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

D. Wadsworth: I was thirty-eight yesterday. It is not joy- 
ous to sit at an empty table and contemplate thirty-eight 
empty years. Handy 'phoned that two of his men had 
failed at the last moment; the number would be thirteen. 
Handy is superstitious: so I went to fill in. 

Enid {has listened tensely) : Why did you drive those women 
to the station.'^ 

D. Wadsworth {goes impulsively to her): I didn't. Dame 
Gossip is near-sighted. Handy 's mare went lame and he 
borrowed my team; that's all of that. I excused myself 
at midnight and walked home. 

Enid: It is unfortunate. 

D. Wadsworth: It is damnable. Mother must not hear of 
it. 

Enid {slowly) : I mean — it is unfortunate you should have 
to explain. 

D. Wadsworth {questioning) : How.'* 

Enid : Once — I would not have given the report a moment's 
credence. 

D. Wadsworth: I see. 

Enid : Now — {hesitates.) 

D. Wadsworth :J I might do a dirty deed. Is that your 
thought.'^ 

Enid: I don't like your moral attitude. 

D. Wadsworth: I don't like yours. 

Enid: In what way? 

D. Wadsworth: I^am|^your husband — by law, if not by 
love. 

Enid: Yes. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 73 

D. Wadsworth: You live in the house with me, yet we are 
strangers. This treatment becomes galUng to a man's 
self respect. He wonders where the fault lies. 
Enid: Yes.? 
D. Wadsworth {hands on her chair) : Are you ready for the 

question? 
Enid (lifts her eyes to his calmly) : Are you an unbiased judge? 
D. Wadsworth: Enid, is Clayton the other man? 
Enid (rises in astonishment) : What? 
D. Wadsworth: Some one else, eh? I'm sorry. I had hoped 

it might be Clayton. He is an honorable chap. 
Enid (faces him across tea table) : Jack is our very good friend 

— what else? 
D. Wadsworth: You evade. 
Enid (steadily) : I am trying to follow you. 
D. Wadsworth (leans across table) : Whom do you go to see in 

Paris. 
Enid: That is my secret. 
D. Wadsworth (turns away) : As you please — only — 

(walks toward right) don't throw stones — at my morals. 
Enid (follows him): Have you summed up the evidence 

against me? It is circumstantial. 
D. Wadsworth (swings about) : Is — it — false? 
Enid: Yes, it is false. 
D. Wadsworth: Convince me of that. 
Enid: To what end? 
D. Wadsworth (strikes table with fist): God, Enid! You left 

me without cause, you returned without explanation; you 

live with me without intimacy. What are your reasons? 



74 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Enid: I can't respect a man who is content to be a failure. 

D. Wadsworth: You took the heart out of me before mar- 
riage. I had failed as a competitive artist, true, but the 
man of money is as valuable to society as the creative 
genius. I intended to use my money in artistic service. 
You insisted on that no-children compact. It knocked my 
plans into a cocked hat. Why should I strive to build 
up the family name if there was to be no family.'* 

Enid: You should have told me this before. 

D. Wadsworth: How could I.^ You put up the bars. 

Enid : You might have — jumped them. {Shakes her head 
gravely) No, Daniel, it isn't my fault you have accom- 
plished nothing. Love should have urged you to greater 
effort. I am no genius — as your mother will testify, yet, 
out of my love for you grew the song and the nocturne. 
If you had been forceful and capable you could not have 
been downed by any outside influence. 

D. Wadsworth: Perhaps not, but I might have been in- 
spired by one. That was an unnatural compact, Enid. 
It put me in a false position with mother, with you, and 
with myself. I wanted children. I would not have mar- 
ried you if I had not thought you would change your 
mind. 

Enid (passionately) : And suppose I did — the conditions are 
unchanged. Your mother is intolerant of advanced ideas, 
your friends are skeptical of artistic endeavor, and you 
yourself belong to the idle rich. Do you suppose I would 
bring a child of mine into such an atmosphere.'^ Never! 
I would starve in a garret with him first. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 75 

D. Wadsworth (kindly) : Foolish notions, little woman. 

Get rid of them. Give me a son, and I'll go down into 

that old studio under the hill (points) and work, as I have 

never worked in my whole careless, aimless life. 

I'll show you the stuff we Wadsworths are made of. 
Enid (resolutely): Then go and begin. Prove to me that 

you are a strong, self-reliant man, worthy to be entrusted 

with the training of our boy. 
D. Wadsworth (bewildered) : Our boy? 
Enid (goes to him. Holds out both hands; he takes them) : My 

husband, you have a son. He is in Paris with Morry. 

That's the secret. 

(He stares at her uncomprehending. Then suddenly gathers 

her in his arms.) 

CURTAIN 



ACT IV 



ACT IV 

The Library at Hillcrest, ten o'clock in the morning, one bright 
- day four months later. There are quantities of autumn flowers 
about the room and the fireplace is filled with boughs of au- 
tumn leaves. A large portrait of a two-year old child, in a 
silver frame, stands on the table. 

Curtain rising, discovers Mrs. Wadsworth seated in rock- 
er, sewing on a baby's dress. She has taken oflf her mourn- 
ing and wears a white gown with a violet bow at her throat. 
She seems much younger. Miss Morris is at the library table 
cutting out paper dolls. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Didn't you enjoy dressing and undress- 
ing the baby? 

Miss Morris: No; the safety pins kept me guessing. My 
specialty was his vocabulary. Notice how nicely he says 
** Grandmother." 

Mrs. Wadsworth: He is wonderfully advanced for a child 
two years old. 

Miss Morris: Modern methods, my dear lady. Put *em in 
the open air, feed 'em, leave 'em. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: When Daniel was little I took entire 
charge of him myself. My husband teased me about it, 
and it di d tie me down considerably, but it was hke play 
ing with a big, live doll. I can't forgive Enid for leaving 
the baby with you. It was cruel. 

Miss Morris: It was heroic. Enid is the stuff martyrs are 
made of. 



80 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Mrs. Wadsworth: I prefer the ordinary materials. What 
good did she suppose could come? 

Miss Morris: Have you ever noticed how symmetrical a 
young tree grows that stands alone by itself in an open 
field.? 

Mrs. Wadsworth: Yes, but children are not trees. 

Miss Morris: If they were, more of them might live to ma- 
turity. Don't worry over Daniel Wadsworth, Jr. He 
has the constitution of an Arab and the disposition of an 
angel. I have made a good job of him — so far. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: I realize that you devoted yourself to 
him. 

Miss Morris: I had my little country place outside Paris. 
I had hoped to have Enid with me; I welcomed her child. 
It was a perfect place for him; quiet, healthful and re- 
moved from the public eye. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: We have to be thankful to you, and I 
am, but I am glad we have him with us. He is an abiding 
source of joy to Daniel. Have you seen his statue, " The 
ChM? " 

Miss Morris: Yes; he took me stealthily down to the 
studio. It is a masterly piece of work. At last he has 
forgotten his mechanics and portrayed an ideal. 

Mrs. Wadsworth : It is for Enid on her birthday. He hopes 
she will have it placed over the door of Wadsworth 
Hall. 

Miss Morris: Enid is nothing if not ambitious. Where does 
she expect to get pupils for this free school of hers? 

Mrs. Wadsworth: They will come. The classes started by 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 81 

Mr. Lapum are a nucleus, but boys and girls will flock 
anywhere to get instruction without money. I am hearti- 
ly in favor of Wadsworth Hall. 

Miss Morris: And endowing it heavily, I understand. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: My Christmas gift to my grandson. I 
may not live to see another Christmas. 

Miss Morris: Nonsense. You grow younger every day. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: I feel younger. Daniel is happy. I 
guess I was wrong to oppose his artistic bent. 

Miss Morris {with conviction) : He has a brilliant future. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: It's good to hear you say so. Your ex- 
perience has been wider than mine. 
(Enid and Mr. Lapum are heard outside.) 

Mr. Lapum: — a long procession winding down under the 
elms, singing as they march. 
(They enter. She is in street attire.) 

Enid: Let us hope they may. 

(To Mrs. Wadsworth) Good morning, mother dear; how 
pretty you look. Morry, Mr. Lapum has selected you to 
write an ode, which I am to set to music, for the dedica- 
tion exercises at the Hall. 

Mr. Lapum: Ah, good morning, ladies. I am indeed plan- 
ning a beautiful program for that auspicious occasion. 
I may say — most beautiful ! I thought you might — 
toss off — a few appropriate verses. Miss Morris. 

Miss Morris: Humph! I'm a poet laureate now, am I.'^ 
What next? 

Enid: It is not imperative you rival Tennyson, Morry. 

Mr. Lapum: We are to have an ancient pageant; Mr. Clay- 



82 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

ton has kindly consented to do the dialogue, but he de- 
clines the poetry. 

Miss Morris: Don't blame him. I'll string some words to- 
gether. The boy's nurse must do him honor at his first 
party. 

Enid: Better not claim that title in front of Hepsy. 

Mr. Lapum: Ah! I had forgotten Hepzibah. She should 
have some part in the pageant. She has been a constant 
attendant at the dancing classes and her agility is sur- 
prising — most surprising. 

Mrs. Wadsworth: I should say as much. She prances 
about like a kangaroo. 
{Enter Hepsy. She wears a nurse's white cap and apron.) 

Hepzibah (calls): Mis' Daniel, Mis' Daniel! That babby 
is the beateree. What do you 'spose he's up and done.^^ 
{To Mr. Lapum) Oh, good morning, sir. He's drawed an 
animal. {Exhibits sheet of paper) 'Taint a horse, and can't 
properly say it's a pig, but it's got four legs and a 
tail. 
{Gives to Enid. All look at it.) 

Mr. Lapum: Marvellous! A chip of the old block! 

Enid {laughs) : A shingle. We'll show his Daddy Exhibit No. 
1 of the Guess Again Series. 
{Puts paper on mantel.) 

Hepzibah : I gin him the piece o' paper to play wid, and the 
first thing I knowed he found a piece o' his Paw's black 
chalk an' war a-drawin' wid it. 

Mrs. Wadsworth : Mercy ! It's a miracle he didn't swallow 
it. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 83 

Mr. Lapum: We were just considering asking you to be in 

the dance at the festivities, Hepzibah. 
Hepzibah: Thank you, sir, but I got to give up me 

dancin'. 
Mr. Lapum: I fancied you enjoyed it? 
Hepzibah: Oh, I do that. I hope whin I'm a angel, 'stead o' 

playin' on a harp, they'll let me dance. Me fingers is 

stiff, but me toes air spry ez crickets. 
Mr. Lapum : Then why — 
Hepzibah: T'ain't becomin' in his nurse. I got to be a 

loidy, an' 'tend to me manners if I'm to raise him proper. 

I can't have him thinkin' I'm wan o' thim movin' pictur 

gals. 

(Enter Birdie Holly.) 
Birdie: Good-morning. I just ran over to bring a ginger- 
bread man for the baby. (Gives one to Enid) How is the 

precious lamb? 

(Starts in apparent surprise) Hello, Mr. Lapum. Who ever 

would have dreamed of finding you here so early in the 

morning? 
Hepzibah (aside) : You wud, if you wuz lookin' out the windy. 
Mr. Lapum (gallantly) : An early bird, you know. In this 

case, I'm the worm. (Bows.) 
Birdie (coyly) : Oh, I haven't caught you yet. 

(To Enid) Say, I understand we're goin' to have a real 

" musical conservoire " in Wadsworth Hall. Are we — 

truly? 
Enid : Mr. Wadsworth plans for the best teachers in all the 

arts. 



84 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Birdie: Lands! I can take some more singing lessons. My 
voice isn't what it was, but it's telling yet. 
{Sings directly at Mr. Lapum) '* If the wild wish to see 
you, and hear you " — ('* Forgotten,'* Cowles.) 

Hepzibah: Hush! you'll w^ake the babby. 

(Exits.) 
Birdie: Well, count on me as a pupil. 

(To Mr. Lapum) And to think we owe it all to you. If 
you hadn't started those parish classes, Mr. Wadsworth 
never would have realized what talent we have in Hill- 
crest. Oh, you're wonderful. 

Mr. Lapum (beams) : I do my best. 

Birdie (goes to door) : I must run home now. Good-bye. 
(To Mr. Lapum) Coming my way.^^ 

Mr. Lapum: If you will permit it. 

Birdie: Oh, I'll permit it, all right. Everytime I run over 
here and see the baby's things lying around, it makes me 
realize how lonely I am. Good-bye, Mrs. Wadsworth. 
Kiss the lamb for me. 

(Beatrice enters) Good morning, Miss Stephens. 
(To Mr. Lapum) Coming.? 

Mr. Lapum: One moment, please. 

(To Beatrice) We are counting on you to play at the dedi- 
cation, Miss Stephens. 

Beatrice (blithely) : I'll be there. 

Mr. Lapum: Now, Birdie, come along. 

(Tucks her hand under his arm. They exit talking.) 

Mrs. Wadsworth : It looks as if there would soon be a mis 
tress at the rectory. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 85 

(Beatrice has been looking out into the garden humming a 
tune to herself.) 

Enid: You seem gay. Bee. Evidently it agrees with you to 
be up half the night. 

Beatrice: Jack's play is accepted. We stayed in Boston to 
dine with the leading man. 

Enid: Good! 

(Jack enters with Daniel.) 

Jack Clayton: I tell you, Wadsworth, it is something more 
than a fad with those fellows. I doubt whether any 
amount of money or influence would induce them to give 
up their classes in Paris and come over here. 

D. Wadsworth: They would — if the classes were waiting 
for them. Why shouldn't America be the art centre of 
the world .f* It can afford to be. I believe Wadsworth 
Hall will develop enough latent talent to attract teachers. 
A great actor will wish to teach the mysteries of his art 
to others, if it can be done without expense to himself. 
So with a great musician; a great painter. It's the joy 
of the working, my boy, that will do the trick. 

Jack Clayton: People don't work well in bunches here as 
they do abroad. There is too much individual competi- 
tion. 

Enid {saunters between them and thrusts a rose in Jack's face) : 
When Daniel shuts his mouth — so — (illustrating) the 
Wadsworth fighting blood is up. 

Jack Clayton: It's a splendid dream, old man, but it will 
take time. 

D. Wadsworth: I can afford to wait. 



86 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Jack Clayton : There are few things you can't afford, lucky 

dog that you are. 
Miss Morris {to Jack) : You have the air of a bloated bond- 
holder yourself today. Congratulations. 
Jack Clayton: Has Bee told you.? 
Enid: Yes. We are perfectly delighted. 

(Shakes both his hands.) 
Jack Clayton (relieved) : I'm mighty glad you take it that 

way. 

(Shakes her hands fervently.) 
Beatrice (comes forward quickly) : I didn't tell them, Jack 

I only told them about the play. 
Jack Clayton (drops Enid's hands) : Oh Lord ! 
Enid (smiles at him): 'Fess up, Jacky! 
Jack Clayton (much embarrassed): The fact is. Bee and I 

were — I mean we are — that is, we will be — 
Enid: Isn't that glorious! When did it happen .^^ 

(Kisses Bee rapturously.) 
Beatrice (timidly) : You don't mind, Enid.^^ 
Enid : Mind.^^ I have not been so pleased over anything since 

Daniel proposed to me. 

(Goes to Daniel who puts arm around her,) 

(Jack and Beatrice look at each other, then laugh.) 
Jack Clayton (to Bee): Now, young lady, you see what a 

goose you were. Quarreling with me for two years over 

nothing. 
D. Wadsworth (shakes hands with them) : My heartiest good 

wishes to you both; and let us hope your first will be a 

girl. 



THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 87 

Enid: Oh, Daniel! aren't you ashamed. When did it happen, 

Jack? 
Jack Clayton : It's been happened ever since a certain good 

lady {touches Miss Morris) introduced me to two young 

musicians. I convinced Bee that it was the real thing last 

night. 
Beatrice: Being possessed of his first bank account Jack is 

eager to pay my bills. 
D. Wadsworth (laughs) : Here's modern romance for you. 
Jack Clayton: You may laugh. " He jests at scars who 

never felt a wound." 
Enid: You see the wrong side of the shield, Jack. The bills 

of the woman he loves are an incentive, — one that can 

never stimulate a millionaire. 
D. Wadsw^orth (puts both hands gayly on Enid's shoulders) : 

I tell you. Jack, marriage is a prescription formulated to 

cure a man of his idleness. 
Enid (promptly) : One grain of endeavor, one ounce of kisses; 

one scruple of strife, one pound of joy. 
Jack Clayton: Sounds good to me. Enough sweets so you 

don't taste the bitters. 
Mrs. Wadsworth (gently) : And a home-brew. 
Beatrice: Jack doesn't need your prescription. If he has 

faults — mind, I don't say he has — idleness is not one 

of them. 
Jack Clayton: Thanks, dear, but it is the constitutional 

malady of mankind. 
D. Wadsworth (smiling) : And woman is its constitutional 

remedy. 



88 THE NATURAL INCENTIVE 

Miss Morris: I appear to be out of this combination. 

Enid : You ! Why, Morry dear, you and mother are its back- 
bone; you two brought the family together. And here 
(takes child's photograph from table; holds it aloft) , here, 
is its head and front, the dearly beloved natural incentive 
of the House of Wads worth. 

(She stands at centre with Daniel. Jack and Bee at right ^ 
clasp hands. At left Miss Morris bends over Mrs. Wads- 
worth.) 

CURTAIN 



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Seaver-HowiandPees 

271 Franklin St. 

'BOS TOM 



